


Putting Down Roots

by FassyAnon



Category: 1800s - Fandom, Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, American Frontier Settlers, Chris Evans - Fandom, Steve Rogers - AU
Genre: 1800s, American Frontier Settlers - Freeform, Drunken behavior, F/M, Illness, Injury, Mail Order Bride, Oregon Territory Settlers, Questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FassyAnon/pseuds/FassyAnon
Summary: Sarah Belle Sims, having chosen not to marry the man her father chose for her, has been kicked out and wonders what will become of her. She ends up moving to New York City and answering an advertisement that appears in the paper: a man looking for a wife. They correspond and she decides to take a chance.





	1. Chapter 1

Her family home was a distant memory by the time Sarah Belle Sims arrived in Oregon City, all her worldly possessions bundled in the trunks that had accompanied her across the vast expanse of the growing country.

Sarah had lost track of how long it had taken her by rail and wagon, but it was all worth it, or she hoped it would be.

When she’d had her disagreement with her father, she hadn’t counted on her family breaking ties with her, with her friends turning their backs on her. She was grateful she’d always been kind to everyone in her life or who knows where she would have ended up.

Mary, her maid, asked her family to open up their home to her and they agreed, giving her shelter when no one else dared. That first day she stayed in the room, lamenting her lot in life. It was when she woke the next morning to Mary bringing her breakfast that she knew she needed to change her ways. Gone was the woman who would allow others to wait on her. She asked the family to teach her how to take care of herself, how to cook and clean and sew. It took some time to learn, but she was able to pitch in and help out by the end of the month. She found she had a real skill with a needle and thread. It took even longer, but she finally felt like she was pulling her own weight when she heard her family, her father, was looking for her. Fearing that her father would punish Mary’s family for having provided shelter, she decamped and headed north to New York, hopeful that she’d be able to figure out something along the way, figure out how she would take care of herself by the time she got to New York City, but it was not to be.

She did have a bit of luck, though, when she found a clean but modest boarding house. She paid, up front, for as many weeks as she could afford and settled in, intent upon figuring out what her life would lead her.

Who knew that reading a newspaper would change her life.

It was a Thursday so many months ago that she read the advertisement: _Christian bachelor, 35, good appearance, with a home and land, wishes a wife. Must be under 30 and amiable with an upstanding moral character_. He was in a place called Oregon and it was all the way on the other side of this great land. On a whim, she sent him a letter and they began a correspondence. Sarah found Mr. Rogers to be sweet and kind and respectful and good with words, and he expressed his deep desire to have a wife and family.

Much to her surprise, especially given the row that had split her from her family, Sarah found herself considering it. He had to be a good sight better than the situation she’d left, so she agreed to pack up all her worldly belongings, such as they were, and head west. She knew it was risky, agreeing to marry someone she’d never met and traveling alone, but she had no one and nothing. She put her faith in God, that He had a purpose for her, that she would find love, after all.

The journey was hard, harder than she ever thought it might be. The trains weren’t bad, but it was the switch once the tracks were gone that took their toll on her. It was several weeks being in the one coach that had her wondering about her sanity and what she was doing with her life. She held on to the belief that she was following her purpose, that she was putting her trust in the hands of a good and decent man, that Steve Rogers would be the right man for her.

It was when they were a few days away, having traveled for so long and in all manner of circumstances and weather, that Sarah started to panic. She’d heard horrors before she’d left where men had misrepresented themselves in every possible way just to get the woman to make the treacherous cross country trip in the hopes that she’d go ahead and marry them when she arrived, having no other alternative.

_Goodness, what have I gotten myself into?_

The sisters in the coach who were going to meet up with their husbands tried to calm her down, but there was no calming Sarah until Sallie Adams took hold of the situation.

“Sarah, you will stop this right now. I’m sure your Mr. Rogers is a perfectly lovely gentleman, and if it turns out he’s not, you have a room at my house waiting for you. So, you can stop your panicking and tell me: why are you doing this? Your family is obviously connected, so what made you agree to this?”

Several times during their trip, the sisters tried to get the story from Sarah, and at each turn they were denied. Sarah hadn’t been sure how they’d react, what they might say or try to convince her to do, not even after all the time they’d spent in each other’s company.

But this was different. Sallie was willing to open her house to her if things were wrong with Mr. Rogers. Sarah felt an obligation to let her new confident know what she was in for if, as it turned out, Mr. Rogers was not who he said he was.

When she told them her tale, she could see it in their eyes, the disbelief that she’d defied her family and then gave up everything to move across the country for a stranger. She pulled out her letters, the ones that Mr. Rogers had sent to her and the ones she read every night when they’d stop, hoping against hope that he was even half the man he was in his letters, and they were all in agreement that he wrote eloquently and that his doodles, the ones that he included, were charming. He’d painted a portrait of the lovely life he wanted to have for himself as well as for his future wife and children.

Sallie’s offer was given a second time and it allowed Sarah to breathe for the first time in six months.

A couple of days later they rolled into town, into Oregon City. Sarah knew her life was about to change, but to what? Would she be joining a husband in a new home, or would she be taking her friend up on her offer and take a bed in her home as she tried to figure out what she was going to do next.

She stretched and yawned as she walked into the local saloon, happy to have sent her wire to Mr. Rogers, confirming her arrival. She had no idea as to how long it would take him to arrive. He’d done as he said he would and had arranged appropriate lodging for her because regardless of her arrival time, she would be staying the night in town.

When she entered the saloon all conversation stopped and all the men stared at her. While she felt like turning around and walking right back out, she decided to stand tall and proceeded to a table. She took some time to glance around after taking a seat and noted that she was the only woman present. She was seconds away from getting up and leaving when a gentleman approached her table.

“How much?”

She didn’t understand the question. She hadn’t counted on anyone approaching her when she was unaccompanied and had been surprised by his brazenness.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“How much?”

“I don’t understand your question.”

A baritone from behind her stopped the gentleman from any further conversation.

“Leave the lady alone.”

Sarah couldn’t readily see him, and it was almost impossible for her to turn around. When the gentleman in question circled around her, she briefly felt as if she were the innocent deer being stalked by the hunter. It was an unsettling feeling, causing her heart to speed up, causing a bit of lightheadedness. Stupid corset!

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

When the stranger intruded on her thoughts, Sarah was, at first, put out but quickly came around. She felt her cheeks get hot when she realized she’d been thinking of her undergarments in mixed company. Sure, she’d thought of them when at home, but those were men she knew: her brothers and her father. Here, everyone was a stranger.

“Ma’am?”

“It’s miss, and I’m fine, thank you for inquiring.” Sarah paused, attempting to get her racing brain under control. There was something, beneath the surface that was trying to make it’s way out. “What was the gentleman asking me about? How much for what?”

“I assure you, miss, nothing that would concern a lady such as yourself. May I ask, are you meeting someone?”

He finally stepped in front of her and Sarah was sure she was in the presence of a giant, as tall as he was. She had to tilt her head almost completely back to see his face, and she felt her cheeks flame once again.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His face, completely clean of any hair (he must have just had a shave), showed off his squared jaw perfectly. He had the countenance of a good, kind man who, although it was apparent he worked outside as a laborer in the sun given the creases on his face, had a softness, a gentleness to his eyes that made Sarah pause, grateful for his comforting presence, before she responded.

“Yes, I am meeting my fiance.”

“Your fiance asked you to meet him at a saloon?”

“I don’t think he’ll be joining me until tomorrow. That’s when I expect him to arrive.”

“He wasn’t here to meet you?”

“No. We weren’t sure when I’d arrive so we arranged to have me send a telegram to let him know.”

“Were you my beloved, I would never have let you arrive here without meeting you. I should have a talk with him, your fiance.”

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t need to do that. He is a good Christian man.”

“You love him that much, that you’d forgive him leaving you unchaperoned?”

Sarah wondered why it was that this handsome stranger was so interested in her fiance. “I don’t think that my relationship with him is any of your concern.” She paused, sighing for effect. “I’m terribly sorry, the long journey has me a bit out of sorts. I didn’t mean to be so rude.”

“No apology is necessary, ma’am, I mean miss.”

“That’s kind of you. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to relax a little before turning in.”

“A little early for bedtime.”

“It was a long journey, and it was tiring and I’d like to be fresh for when I meet my fiance.”

“Of course, of course. If I can be of any assistance-”

“Any assistance I’m given will be by my fiance, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Sarah couldn’t understand the smile on the stranger’s face.

“It’s nice to have a lady among all these hooligans.”

“I don’t know how much of a lady I could be, since I’ve talked to you, unchaperoned, for far longer than I should have. But I hope you can understand and forgive my earlier behavior.”

“I am at your service, miss.” He took her offered hand and bowed over it. When it appeared he was going to kiss it, she gracefully extracted it from his grip. His smile was even larger when he stood. “I will leave you alone.”

* * *

The following morning, it took Sarah longer than she liked to lace up her corset and get dressed for breakfast. She was weary, hopeful that Mr. Rogers would arrive soon so they could meet and get on with their arrangement. She didn’t have all that decent a sleep since she was more than a little apprehensive about meeting her future husband. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if she’d done the right thing.

The previous night she’d spoken with the proprietor and had ended up confiding in his wife, a capable woman who helped him run the establishment. Mrs. Wilson mentioned that she had been introduced to Mr. Rogers when she came to town and found him to be a decent sort of man. He’d been there for several years before starting his quest to find a wife and have a family. He mostly kept to himself, clearing his land and building his cabin and his barn, making furniture, tending his animals and working as a lumberjack during the mild months.

Sarah was happy to hear he had been preparing for the family, the children, he’d been writing to her about. Hearing of his efforts eased her mind only somewhat, though; she was still apprehensive.

When she came downstairs for breakfast, Mrs. Wilson pulled her aside to let her know that not only had Mr. Rogers arrived the previous night, he had been in the dining room from almost when the sun came up, not wanting to miss meeting her.

Sarah was again lightheaded when she heard those words, knowing he was no more than a couple dozen steps from where she stood. She’d traveled however many miles, and for several weeks, and suddenly she was willing to turn back around and head home, reconcile with her father and tell him she was willing to marry the awful Peter Fair.

Mrs. Wilson urged her into the dining room, assuring her they would be left alone to get acquainted.

She couldn’t lift her eyes until several steps over the threshold, wanting the floor to open up and swallow her whole. She gathered her strength and glanced up, prepared for anything-

-but what she encountered. The handsome stranger from the day before was the only person she saw seated at the table. Confused, she approached him.

“I’m sorry, they told me-”

He hastily stood, greeting her with a smile that warmed her heart.

“-that your fiance, Mr. Rogers, was waiting for you in the dining room.”

“Did he have to leave?”

“No, he is here.”

She glanced about the room but only saw the stranger.

“Where is he?”

“Standing in front of you. I am your humble servant, Miss Sims. I am Steve Rogers.”

She had never experienced such a rush of emotions. While she was happy he was as handsome as any man, and that he’d been solicitous and helpful, she couldn’t help but feel that he’d been testing her the day before.

“That was rather rude of you. Why didn’t you identify yourself yesterday?”

When he stood taller, eyes wide, she took several steps back, prepared to exit the room if his anger overwhelmed him.

“I wasn’t sure you were my Sarah-”

“ _Your_ Sarah? That’s a bit presumptive-”

“You mentioned you were here to meet your fiance, I’m sure you were thinking I’m your Steve-”

Sarah couldn’t help but escalate things further. “Now you know what I’m thinking? I have a good mind to-”

He reached out to her, wanting to calm her, stop her panicking. “Sarah, please-”

Backing further to the doorway, she couldn’t help but interrupt him. “I have not given you permission to use my given name, Mr. Rogers.”

His hand dropped and he hastily retreated. “You are right, Miss Sims. I humbly beg your pardon.”

Sarah most definitely was not used to men apologizing to her. It was the only excuse she had when she uttered the words, “I don’t know if I’m ready to give it.”

She saw a man slapped by a woman once. He’d been so shocked, so flustered that his jaw dropped before his face got all red and he’d started to yell.

His jaw wide, Mr Rogers’s face drained of all color.

“Miss Sims, I assure you, I didn’t know who you were yesterday. If I had, I would have introduced myself. Our exchange was brief, and you were tired and wanted to be left alone, and you weren’t scheduled to arrive until today.”

“But you knew I’d come to be with my fiance.”

“And that was the extent of our conversation.” The color returned to his cheeks as he walked towards her.

Sarah clenched her jaw so he wouldn’t see it trembling, see her fear. She thought she was prepared for anything.

“How about we start over. We can get to know each other a bit over breakfast.” He held out her chair for her and, dumbfounded, Sarah sat. He joined her and when they were settled, he continued. “Once we’re done we can get ready and go to the Justice of the Peace-”

“Already? You want to get married today?”

“My cabin is a good half-day’s ride from town and I don’t imagine you’d want to come out to live with me when we’re not married.”

“Absolutely not! It wouldn’t be proper.”

He sighed and reached for her hand. “Exactly.” When she glanced down and saw how big his hands were she felt a sense of calm wash over her. Although his hands were calloused, he was gentle.

“If we are married before noon, then we should be able to get home before sunset. We’ll be able to move your things in, get you settled. I’ll be able to show you the setup either tonight or tomorrow morning. I’ve already been gone one night and I don’t want to let the animals go a second without me looking in on them, without us looking in on them. I want to be sure they have enough to eat.”

“Animals?”

“Sheep and chickens, for now.”

“And the setup?”

“My cabin, and the lake. I can show you where everything is in the nearby town. I want you to be familiar with everything.”

She felt the caress on the back of her hand and was mesmerized when she glanced, seeing his thumb slowly move back and forth. She felt the tension she’d had since leaving New York leave her body.

“What do you say, will you marry me?”


	2. Chapter 2

_What have I done?_

“Miss Sims?”

His words hung in the air over his head… _marry me_. She’d barely had more than a few minutes in his presence and he wanted her decision about the rest of her life, right now. It was all so much.

“I…”

She felt like she was being scrutinized, like that moth that her brother had captured and put in the glass jar, closing the lid and setting it out in the sun to see what would happen. She felt like she’d agreed to be captured and was now in a jar for all to see.

“Miss Sims, are you okay?”

Sarah nodded her head as her world closed in on her.

“Mrs. Wilson? Can we get some water, and maybe some breakfast for Miss Sims?”

The water was a relief and the eggs helped her to regain some strength and eating meant she didn’t have to answer him. Mr. Rogers had relinquished her hand when the food arrived and, while he watched her eat, his fidgeting grew worse. Sarah felt for him.

“I have a cabin.”

She paused, peeking at him through lashes before she took her next bite. She slowed her eating and tilted her head in his direction, encouraging him, wanting to hear more.

“I’m almost done adding our- the first bedroom and my plan is to add a couple of more for… our children.”

Sarah realized she’d never considered how much work he was doing to provide shelter for his- _their?_ -family.

Family. Children. How she longed to be a mother, to raise good, moral, strong men and women. People who would do for others, who would raise their own families, who would be kind and thoughtful and caring.

People like her mother.

Children. She felt her cheeks flame as she realized _that meant_ -

“I have several chickens.”

She was brought back to the here and now and saw his grin and wondered if he knew what was going on in her head and that brought more heat to her face and his grin got wider and she was saved from further embarrassment when he continued.

“I just took in a couple of sheep and I’m due to get three piglets when Jimmy’s pig has her next litter and they’re weaned, which should be in a couple of months. I helped him out with a few things around his place and it’s how he’s paying me and that’s why our- the bedroom isn’t completed. I figured it would be good to get some pigs.”

Starting a life from scratch, that’s what he’d been doing. Building a home and now he wanted her to join him, to build a life together.

“I’ve done some planting, but I’ve been getting everything ready for the animals so there’s definitely more to do, for us, that is.”

Building a life was going to be so much work. Could she do it? Did she have it in her?

“As I said, the bedroom is almost done. I need to cut the door and move in the furniture. My place… our… place is small, for now, but I plan on making it as big as we need it to be for our children. When you wrote you said you wanted at least four, is that what you still want, or might you want more?”

Sarah felt like she could start to relax a little. Steve, Mr. Rogers, was excited to let her know all the work he’d done for her, for them, things she knew Peter Fair, or her father or brothers would have never considered to do for their families. And he had asked her, even after how poorly she’d treated him, he still _asked_ her to marry him which meant he had still been considerate enough to offer her an out.

And she knew. Sarah knew she could do it, forge a life for her and for him and for their children in this difficult place and she knew with as kind as he had been she’d be sure to fall in love with him. She’d have to fall in love with him, right?

“Yes.”

“Yes? Maybe more? You might want more than four?”

“No.” His face fell and Sarah’s stomach turned. She had to fix this, fast.

“Yes. I mean not about the kids, I don’t know about the kids…” she gathered herself just before the words spilled out of her. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Once again his eyes sparkled and he took her hand in his and with that touch she knew: she knew she’d be safe with him and they would forge a life together and she hoped he would be patient with her and come to love her. She could only hope they would find love together.

“Really? You’ll marry me?”

“Yes. If what you say is true, it sounds like you’ve wanted this for a while, that you’ve been preparing for this, that you want a family.”

“I have. Ever since I moved here I’ve been preparing for a wife and a family. It’s been my goal all along to have a family. That’s what I’ve done all of this for.”

They smiled and enjoyed the silence for a few moments.

“I would like to get back to our place, so whenever you are finished, we can go to the courthouse-”

“I have a special dress I’d like to wear, if that’s okay. It might take a bit of time for me to change into it. I can ask Mrs. Wilson to help me. Is that okay?”

“Of course. I’ll settle our bill with Mr. Wilson and we can be on our way.”

He assisted her out of her chair and they paused. To Sarah, it felt like the room became charged, like a field back home did right before lightning crackled the air and struck and took down an enormous oak tree. The little hairs on her arms even stood at attention.

Mr. Rogers had to clear his throat before he could speak.

“I’ll meet you downstairs. I don’t want to rush you, so please, take your time.”

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing she knew, she was in her room, pulling the nicest dress she had out of the trunk. It wasn’t a wedding dress, but it was her absolute favorite dress from last season.

Blue and white striped brocade silk and wool, and she needed some assistance to tighten her corset so she could fit. Mrs. Wilson assisted, chattering away and asking all sorts of questions about how she’d come to be in this part of the country. When she was properly laced and in the dress, Sarah turned to her, finally talking. She was desperate to confide in someone.

“It was his letters that convinced me to come this way. It wasn’t like it was poetry, but it was simple, what he wanted was simple and beautiful and something I’ve always wanted, so I said okay and said goodbye to my old life. It took several weeks, but then I was almost here and I started to panic. I realized I had no way home so I needed to make the best of the situation and try to make it work with him and to fit in and find my purpose. I didn’t really think it through when I first decided to accept his proposal.”

Mrs. Wilson’s hand on her arm stopped her chatter.

“What did you base your decision on?”

Embarrassment colored her cheeks. “I was excited to travel West and start a new life, get married, have a family. I hadn’t thought about what it might take. It hadn’t dawned on me that a house would have to be built or that towns would be under construction, that I wouldn’t have the things that I’m used to. None of that crossed my mind until I’d agreed to marry him and was on my way. We’d corresponded for a while, when I was back in New York, and I thought I got a good sense of him. And I did. He’s just as kind and considerate in person as he was on paper. He’s been so thoughtful. I might not love him right now, right this very second, but I’m sure I’ll grow to love him.”

“He is a handsome man.”

“Oh goodness but he is. I just- I wish Mother were still alive so she could tell me about being a wife and the things that are expected of me. I had a dear friend get married and she told me all sorts of tales-”

“Wifely duties?”

“Yes. I feel so wrong, bringing it up to someone I don’t know, but I don’t have anyone else and you’ve been so kind already-”

“Dear, you’ll have to come back here to load your things up before you leave. Maybe we can talk then.”

“Oh, Mrs. Wilson, would you? I don’t know what’s expected and I don’t want to cause trouble, I don’t want to give him a reason to throw me out.”

“He wouldn’t do that-”

“It could happen! It happened to one of my mother’s friends, Mrs. Jackson.” She took a couple steps back as she recalled what she’d witnessed. “I heard the arguments my parents had about her when my father forbade her to have anything to do with her. I didn’t understand why she no longer had a place to live. It wasn’t until after Betty, Mrs. Jackson’s daughter, got married and she told me what her father told her about keeping her husband satisfied and it’s just… I don’t know anyone here and if Mr. Rogers threw me out-”

“He won’t do that, and if he did, you’d come stay with me.”

“But Mr. Wilson could forbid-”

“No, sweetie, he wouldn’t dare. And I promise you that will never happen, Mr. Rogers is a kind and decent man. He wouldn’t do that.”

It took Sarah a few moments before she decided to stand as tall as she could (although at 5’ no one would ever proclaim she was tall), blinking back the tears that had formed when she’d finally expressed her worst fear. She exhaled and wiped at the corner of her eyes.

“Okay, I’m going to listen to you. You know him better than I do, Mrs. Wilson, especially since I’ve spent so little time with him.”

“Dear, please, call me Mary. We aren’t as formal around here as what you are used to.”

Recalling her words to Mr. Rogers, she rushed to say, “please, call me Sarah.”

“Are you sure about this? That you want to get married?”

Sarah took a deep breath and dropped her shoulders before rubbing and pinching her cheeks.

“I’m positive. He showed himself to be a good man in his correspondence and also here. I’d already agreed to marry him before I came out, and he asked me again just a little bit ago. He gave me an out and he didn’t have to. I’m going to believe you, and I just hope I don’t disappoint him.

Mary took her hands and squeezed, not letting go. “When you come back, we’ll have some tea and we’ll talk while the men load up Mr. Rogers’ buggy with your things.” She reached up and smoothed some errant hair.

For only a moment, Sarah felt like her mother was alive again and embodied in Mary. She tamped down the tears that wanted to spring forth, for she’d been missing Mother something fierce. Instead of tears, Mary saw a smile.

“Thank you, you’ve given me courage that I’m doing the right thing.” Calm washed over her before she continued. “I must join my fiance- oh goodness, next time you see me, I’ll be a married woman.”

“Do you have witnesses?”

“I don’t know. Do we need them?”

“Yes, you’ll need two. If you don’t already have them, Mr. Wilson and I can stand up for you. As long as you’re sure this is what you want. Is this what you want?”

Sarah nodded. “Yes. My one hope is that he hasn’t regretted his decision.”

“I couldn’t begin to imagine why he would. There’s no reason for him to regret. You’re lovely and you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re brave-”

“I am not brave.”

“You crossed this country to marry a man you’ve never met, in a place you’ve never been. That takes great courage.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now, let’s go get you married.”

* * *

Sarah couldn’t put her finger on it, but something was different about Mr. Rogers. He was a gentleman and helped her into his buggy, but he was quiet on the ride to the courthouse. The Wilsons followed them and were a few minutes behind so the silence was pronounced when they got to the courthouse and walked in.

_He must be regretting his decision._

When that thought crossed her mind, Sarah almost burst into tears.

_All this way, and he doesn_ _’t want me. Am I not meant to find love? Am I meant to spend my life with someone who only tolerates me?_

Those last words were still being formed when she saw Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. Mr. Wilson looked like he’d had something sour to eat while Mrs. Wilson was all smiles.

_Did Mr. Rogers confide in him? Does he know the secret?_

If he did, he hadn’t let his wife in on it, but then again, men didn’t confide in their women, did they? _Daddy never confided in Mother._

“Are you all set? Are you ready to go before the Justice of the Peace?” Mrs. Wilson continued to remind Sarah of Mother and she wished she had her by her side. Mother would have known what to do, if she should be getting married. She was mere seconds away from opening her mouth when Mr. Rogers answered.

“Everything is in order and they are waiting on us. Ladies, after you.”

Mr. Rogers held out his arm, indicating the direction they should go. Mary linked arms with Sarah and they walked the few feet necessary.

Sarah had been dreaming about her wedding, about finding the man she’d spend her life with and create a family with and she’d had grand plans about her dress and the ceremony and every little detail.

She got none of what she’d wanted, and worst of all, she would barely remember the ceremony.

_Please, repeat after me_ _…_

_“I, Steven Grant, take you…”  
_ _“…and obey, till death do us part…”  
_ _“I give you this ring as a symbol_ …”  
 _“…all that I have, I honor you…”_

It was over all so quickly, and Sarah wasn’t sure if there was no kiss because it was not the custom in the area or because he didn’t want to kiss her and it felt like a nail in the coffin of their marriage.

The ride back was equally as quiet and with each horse hoofed clip-clop, Sarah felt more and more alone. She was grateful that he was at least being a gentleman as he helped her down.

“Welcome, Mrs. Rogers, and congratulations to both of you.”

Sarah knew that they could all feel the tension and knew, without a doubt: the marriage was a mistake.

“Sarah, let’s let the men get to it and you and I can catch up before you leave for your new home.”

Mary again linked arms and they adjourned to her private sitting room where she served tea. They settled into her chairs in front of a fire putting up a valiant attempt at chasing away the rain dampened air.

“Sarah, did something happen on your ride over? Did you two have a quarrel?”

Sarah’s dam burst open.

“No quarrel, nothing happened. He was quiet the whole way over and back and he only spoke to me during the ceremony. I’m afraid he’s regretting his decision.”

“I don’t think he’s regretting it.”

“There was no kiss!”

“That’s pretty standard for marriages like yours. We had some problems a while back when a couple of marriages just about came to blows during the ceremony and it was decided that with marriages like that, like yours, there needs to be some easing into things.”

It was as though Sarah hadn’t heard her.

“I don’t know him well enough yet and it’s just so awkward and I’m afraid I’ve done something to displease him but I don’t know what it is so I have no idea what I need to fix. Everything was okay when I came up to get changed and he’s been like this since the ride to the courthouse.”

As young and inexperienced as she was, it was no wonder Sarah was having a difficult time. Mary decided to be gentle with her.

“Honey, you’re going to need to learn to talk to your husband.” She almost laughed at the scowl on Sarah’s face, but knew that would only cause a rift with her new friend. “Mr. Rogers has always been honest and upfront with Mr. Wilson. We had something last year we needed some advice on and he was so helpful. You need to remember, he just got married, too. It’s entirely possible that the seriousness, that him being a husband, finally hit him. I know he’s been looking so forward to having a wife and a family, but this is still new for him. This will be a time of adjustment for both of you.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll do something else to upset him.”

“Maybe give it a couple of days. You still have the trip to his place and I’m sure you’re going to want to start putting your touches on it, and I’m sure he’s going to want that, too. Settle into a routine, get his place the way you want it, and I’m sure everything will fall into place.”

“Give it a couple of days…”

“I think it would be wise to give _everything_ a couple of days. You need to get used to each other.”

“I think that’s what I’d prefer.”

“If you’re not ready to do your wifely duties, be gentle with him, but let him know you need some time. And when you are ready, follow his lead. He’ll let you know what he likes, and he might make it enjoyable for you, too.”

“I didn’t think women enjoyed those kinds of things.”

“Some women do, and hopefully your Mr. Rogers will be patient with you. My Mr. Wilson was patient with me and that was helpful.”

“Really?”

“Yes, and you know what? I’ll bet things will look up once you see his place. There isn’t a whole lot to it right now, but I know he’s been working really hard to make it better, more suitable for someone else.”

“He told me about all that he’s done and all his plans, and it sounds like he’s been so busy. I just hope I’m what he was expecting.”

“Honey, I don’t think he could have done any better than you. You’re pretty and smart and I’m sure you two will get along well. Just give it some time, and talk to him, okay?”

“I will. I think… I think I’ll look to get settled and get my things all moved in and start my life as Mrs. Rogers. We’ll figure it all out. We have a lifetime to figure it all out.”

They both turned when they heard Mr. Rogers clearing his throat. He hadn’t entered the room, instead leaning in the doorway.

“Are you about ready?”

He didn’t have a smile for her and Mrs. Wilson could have sworn she saw a grimace before Sarah had completely turned to face him.

“We’re done with our visit. I know Mrs. Rogers is anxious to take the last little bit of her journey that started so many months ago, start her new life with you.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to-”

“We best get a move on.” His exit was hasty and the two women looked at each other before following in silence.

Before he could help her into the buggy, Mrs. Wilson spoke up. “You two are welcome here anytime you are in town.”

“And once I’m settled and things are in order, I’m sure we’ll be looking to extend an invitation for you to come visit, too.”

Steve hesitated before agreeing.

“Yes, most definitely. I’m sure I could use Mr. Wilson’s advice on a few things, crops and such. Well, we must be off if we’re going to arrive while it’s still light out.”

Mary hustled back indoors while Sarah was being helped up and settled. She came back out with a basket weighted with food.

“I know it’ll be most of the day before you get home so I thought it would be good to send you on your way with some food so you don’t go hungry. Now, since I’ve given you this basket, we’ll have to see each other again for you to return it to me. No pressure, though, take your time. Please, have a safe journey, and congratulations you two!”

After exchanging pleasantries, Mr. And Mrs Rogers began their half-day silent journey to their home.


	3. Chapter 3

****Sarah marveled at how much land there was that didn’t have homes. She’d seen vast stretches of undeveloped land on her trek across the country, but it hadn’t really hit her that she’d be living in an area that didn’t yet have towns and decent roads and such.

They had been traveling for the better part of the afternoon in silence before Mr. Rogers finally spoke up.

“I want you to be prepared. I don’t know what you are used to, but my place- I’m sorry, I’m going to have to get used to that, our place… is small. I should have the bedroom complete in a day or so, but the main part of the house isn’t big at all.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, I don’t think you understand. It’s been a good size for me. I have a table for my kitchen, I’ve got a chair for the fireplace, and my bed. It is small. I’ve built some furniture for the bedroom, but I still have to move it in. I made another chair for you, but I wasn’t sure what you’d like so it’ll do for now, I guess. You might want something different and if you do I’ll make you whatever you need.”

He’d already been so busy with everything for the house, she couldn’t understand why had he gone and done something like that. _He shouldn_ _’t be spending time on things for me_. “I’m sure it’s just fine. No need to make a fuss over me. If for some reason it doesn’t work I’ll just-”

“You wouldn’t have anywhere to sit. No wife of mine will be sitting on the floor.”

It was an odd feeling, having him, a virtual stranger, stick up for her. No man had ever stuck up for her. She almost responded but they came around a bend in the path and she spied a small cabin ahead. It stood in a small patch of sunlight in a clearing, the trees having been felled for the space needed for it. She spied the lake behind the house and knew she was going to be happy to have water so close.  
Just out of her field of vision was more light. When she turned to her right, she saw that yet more space had been cleared for crops that had been planted and behind it, a barn with a well near the door. Figuring that was where the animals were, she figured her husband would want to go check on them first.

_Husband, goodness, I_ _’m married!_

He slowed their approach and Sarah could feel his gaze on her. She knew he was trying to catch her reaction, so she did what she could to keep her expression pleasant.

He had mentioned his cabin was small, and it sure looked it. It looked like the whole thing would have probably fit into the living room of her home- _no, where I grew up, this is my home now_ -and that combined realization, her new home and how small it was in comparison to what she’d grown up in, was more than she knew what to do with. She was sure he was going to misinterpret whatever expression she had on her face.

“I know it’s not much to look at right now, it is small, but you can’t see the bedroom from here. I should have that ready for you tomorrow, or maybe the next day-”

Sarah had turned to him, putting her hand on his arm. He immediately stopped speaking.

“Did you build this whole thing yourself?”

He quickly worked to dismiss her thought. “I had a couple people help me with… getting it started.”

She nodded and then realized she needed clarification. “Does that mean that there will be men here tomorrow to help?”

“No, no. I don’t have men coming by.”

“I don’t understand. How do they help if they’re not here?”

“They helped me get it started. We got the first couple of layers going I’ve been working on it ever since.”

Sarah paused, happy to hear Mr. Rogers not trying to take all the credit even though he deserved most of it. Her smile was slow to emerge. “So, you have been working on it all by yourself.” Her smile grew when she saw the tops of his ears turn pink. “I’ve never met anyone who built a whole house before.”

“It is small…”

“Will you show me?”

“I’d like to get your stuff inside and get the horses cooled down and into the barn and check on the animals first, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind.”

* * *

It didn’t take much time for Mr. Rogers to unload her things and get them into the bedroom. He told her it would make more sense for her things to go directly into the room rather than moving them in the next day when he got the furniture in. He didn’t want her to see anything until he was sure the cabin was ‘presentable’ so she stayed outside and headed the couple of hundred feet to the lake.

On her way, she noted all the trees and bushes and plants. It looked like some of them might be fruit bearing, but they were unlike anything she’d seen. She was tempted to pluck a couple and taste them, but she was reluctant, concerned that they might be poisonous.

She couldn’t have been looking around for more than a few minutes, taking in the calm, sunlit waters of the lake and hearing the critters in the surrounding forest before Mr. Rogers, horses in tow, came to fetch her. They walked in silence to the barn and she glanced around the field, seeing all the crops he’d planted, not knowing what some of them were, and figuring most of the bounty was destined for his animals.

He opened the barn door and suddenly there was all manner of sound. Chickens and sheep and even the horses joined in.

While the barn wasn’t as big as the one she’d grown up with, it was well sorted, with areas clearly intended for specific animals.

“I’m planning on that corner over there for the pigs, but if I want anything more I’ll need to build on.”

He tossed the leads over the post outside the barn and headed to the stalls.

“I’d love to help you with them.”

“You know how to handle a horse?”

“I grew up with one. We had to put Star down a couple years ago, but until then, I rode him just about every day and I was always the one to take care of him.”

He paused and glanced over his shoulder at her. “You’re still in your finery, and today’s been a long day for you, how about-”

“It’s been long for both of us. You’ve had a long day, too.”

Even at the distance he was from her, Sarah saw the hardness to his jaw soften. “All of this is new for you. Why don’t you settle in today and maybe tomorrow and we’ll figure it all out.”

“Figure what out?”

“Tending the animals and the crops and stuff around the cabin and, well, everything.”

“But today-”

“I don’t want you to get yourself all dirty.” He turned to face her. “That’s a beautiful dress.”

She knew with all the heat in her cheeks that she had to be blushing something awful. “It will take me a little time, but I can go change.”

“I don’t think I thought everything through. I want to be the one to show you around, but the horses need-”

“The horses need tending and they must be taken care of first, they have to be your- our first priority. Why don’t you start with them. I’ll go change and if you’re done by the time I’m back you can show me around and if not, I’ll pitch in and help. How does that sound?”

“I wanted to show you the house-”

“I know you do, so I won’t spend much time, just enough to change my dress and be back out. I promise, I won’t go snooping.”

Before Mr. Rogers could say anything, Sarah had turned and was on her way to the house. He realized she wouldn’t be able to find her things.

“Your things are in the bedroom. You’ll need to go to the back of the house to get into the bedroom.”

“Thank you, Mr. Rogers. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

* * *

Sarah was as good as her word, only looking around enough to find her things and change. Looking at her open trunks, she knew she was going to have to make all new clothes for the work she was going to have to do around his place. She put on the dress that she considered the most suitable for working with the animals and headed back to the barn.

She surprised Mr. Rogers.

“That was fast.”

“I told you, it would take no time at all.”

“This morning took longer-”

Taking the reins of one horse, she led him out to a large patch of grass to the side of the barn so he could move a little more freely. She raised her voice to be sure she was heard.

“Changing into clothing that requires a bit more binding, and also being with another woman, well, we got to talking so naturally it took longer. What’s his name?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What are the horses’ names?”

“I haven’t named ‘em.”

“Why on earth not?”

“I just use them for working around the place and taking me to town. They’re not part of the family.”

“It doesn’t mean they can’t have names. How do you get them to come to you?”

“I don’t, they just do what I need them to do.”

She scoffed at the notion.

“Would you mind if I named your horses?” She took a couple of turns around the field and wondered if he’d heard her since he didn’t answer right away. She was sure to be as close to the barn the next time she spoke up. “Would you mind if I named them?”

“No, I suppose not.”

“He looks like a Duke to me. What do you think?”

His laughter made her smile. “Sounds like a mighty fine name for a working horse.”

“He’s a mighty fine working horse if you ask me.” Sarah continued to cool down Duke, leading him to the trough every other turn around the meadow so he could drink. When she glanced at Mr. Rogers, she saw a gentleness to his face she hadn’t expected, given how he’d been so quiet on the ride to his place. She continued talking to Duke, getting him used to her voice and used to his name. She knew it would take some time, but she also knew that, eventually, he’d recognize his name. How on earth Mr. Rogers had a horse and hadn’t named him? That just didn’t make sense.

She kept her hands on Duke, monitoring his temperature, and when he finally started to really cool, she led him back into the barn. She didn’t see her husband anywhere.

“Mr. Rogers? Where do you keep the brushes?”

There was no noise, nothing. She wondered where he could have gone to when he popped out from behind a stall. She couldn’t understand the pained look on his face.

“Do you have brushes? For the horses? My Star always liked to have a good brushing at the end of any activity. Do your horses like that?”

He handed the requested brush over and walked out of the barn with the other horse in tow.

As she brushed Duke and chattered away, a clear memory of her mother calling her horse crazy came to mind. Once again she was reminded that her mother was not around to help her get acclimated to married life. She got quiet at the memory, desperately missing her mother. When Mr. Rogers came back in with the other horse-

_What do you want to name her?_

_I don_ _’t know, maybe Lady?_

She handed over Duke and started with Lady, happy to have a horse between them to hide her tears.

By the time she was done with Lady, Mr. Rogers was finished with the chickens and sheep and they closed up the barn before heading back to the cabin.

He’d been right: it was small. There wasn’t much to it: a cupboard in the corner, a table under the window at the front, and Sarah noticed that there were no curtains on any of the windows. It was neat, and there was a rather large stone fireplace. She’d only ever tried cooking on a wood stove. Sarah wondered if she’d be able to prepare food over an open flame. The chairs he’d spoken of, both of them rocking chairs, were near the fireplace, and there was a bed in the corner.

_That doesn_ _’t look big enough for him, how are we both supposed to fit-_

_Oh, Lord above, I_ _’m going to be sleeping next to a man!_

Abruptly she turned, averting her eyes. She didn’t want him to see how scared she was.

“I know it’s warm now, but there’ll be a chill in the air tonight. Let me go get some wood so we’re prepared.”

His activity, in and out of the cabin, made her feel like she had some time to herself as she surveyed her surroundings, such as they were. She moved away from the bed in the corner and walked to the fireplace. There was a stand with hooks that stood in the firebox, pots of varying sizes hanging from them. It was going to be perfect for making soups and stews, and those she knew how to do, but something like bread? She needed an oven for that. How was she going to-

“How about we go outside and I can show you around?”

She noticed the good-sized stack of wood he’d put next to the fireplace. They were certainly ready for a fire.

“Is there more than the barn?”

“I thought we could take a walk, get some air while it’s still light out.”

“That would be nice.”

* * *

Instead of heading towards the lake, as Sarah supposed they would, Mr. Rogers led them down the path they’d traveled earlier that day.

“I have something I want to show you.”

“What’s that?”

“It’ll just be a few minutes. You’ll see.”

They proceeded in silence, Sarah’s curiosity growing with each step. She took the opportunity to take in her surroundings and immerse herself in the peace of nature that was everywhere.

Back home- _where I grew up, I_ _’m really going to have to stop that_ -there was some nature, woods and trees and the like, but mostly everything had been, in essence, wiped clean so crops could be planted. Sarah had wondered what the land had looked like before her ancestors had come along and stripped everything down to the soil.

_Had the land looked like this? Had people stripped it of its natural beauty?_

“This way.”

It was the lesser traveled fork in the path that they took and maybe half a minute later they came to another shore along the lake.

“There.”

She followed his hand, pointing up at-

Out of nowhere, above the trees stood the highest mountain Sarah had ever seen, and it was so close!

“How could I have missed that? It’s so beautiful!”

“The trees do a good job of hiding it.”

“The white… is that snow on top?”

“Have you never seen snow?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Well, you have now.”

“That’s snow? Wait, are we going to get snow here?”

“We didn’t last winter. It can get cold, but it never got cold enough to snow.”

“Could I go see it? Up close?”

“Is that what you’d like?”

“Oh, I would love that so much. Yes please.”

“It’s getting warmer every day and the snow’s melting.  We’ll figure out a time to go.”

If Sarah hadn’t been clapping her hands and bouncing on her feet, they probably would have headed back in after a bit. Instead, she bounced onto a rock and rolled her ankle, screaming out in pain as she fell to the ground.

When Mr. Rogers scooped her up as if she were as light as a feather and carried her back towards the cabin, she protested.

“I am perfectly capable of walking, Mr. Rogers.”

She saw his jaw become more pronounced.

“You went down rather hard and I want to be sure you’re okay.”

“But I-”

“Ma’am, I’d prefer to wait until we’re back home before I set you down. It won’t take me long.”

Mr. Rogers shushed her every time Sarah opened her mouth to protest. He was as good as his word: they were home in no time at all.

Once across the threshold, it took some prodding from Sarah for him to set her on her feet. He was quick to pick her right back up when he saw her wince.

“Please set me down.”

“I will not hurt you.”

Sarah couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Are you going to carry me all day?”

His answer did nothing to alleviate her laughter.

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“No, of course not.” She felt him hold her just a little closer. “I don’t want to see you in pain.”

“It wasn’t much. I just turned my ankle. I’ll be okay.” When he didn’t move to lower her, she continued. “Mr. Rogers, please set me down.”

He stood straighter for a moment before gingerly setting her down right in front of the rocking chair he’d made for her.

Sarah did what she could to cover any evidence of pain on her face. “See, I told you. Perfectly fine.”

“You are an awful liar.”

“I may be, but I’ll be fine by tomorrow, mark my words.”

“I shall. For now, I want you to sit. We’ll take the rest of the tour tomorrow. The sun will be going down soon and I’d like to get the fire going so we have some light.”

“Then we’ll be able to eat the meal that Mrs. Wilson was kind enough to give us.”

* * *

Sarah didn’t like being idle, but she didn’t have much of a choice: Mr. Rogers told her she wasn’t to lift a finger for the rest of the night.

He stacked the logs on top of kindling and it took time, but the fire was going within the half hour, just as the sun began to set. He lit one of the lamps as Sarah lay the food on the table, having sneaked out of her chair.

Mr. Rogers was not amused.

Once they finished their meal, having eaten mostly in silence, an awkwardness to the lingering quiet fell over them, neither of them knowing quite what to say.

Mr. Rogers was kneeling in front of the fire, tossing a few more logs on, when Sarah couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“I love fire. I could sit here and watch it for hours.”

“That’s something you like?”

“Yes.”

She’d hoped that saying something would get him talking, but it didn’t.

“Is there anything that you like like that, Mr. Rogers, something that you can do for long periods of time?”

“To be honest, I haven’t had the luxury of time. I’ve been so busy building my home, our home, that I haven’t had any idle time.”

“The cabin and the barn and now the bedroom almost complete, maybe-”

“I need to get a cellar built, and I think bedrooms, for the children-”

“Children… yes, of course.”

“I don’t anticipate having any idle time for, well, a while.”

“What do you do once it’s dark?”

“Make furniture.”

“You not only built this, but you built the furniture, too?”

“What do you do during your idle time?”

“At home- at my father’s, I mean, I played the piano or I read.”

“I don’t have anything like that here.”

“I don’t expect to have idle time here. I’ll be keeping house and the garden and animals, cooking for you, and making our clothes, and taking care of our children-”

“Did you like playing the piano?”

“Sure. I enjoyed music, but I’m not going to have time-”

“Because of all the work.”

“Because I’ll be doing what I’m supposed to be doing, taking care of my family.”

“But at night, when it’s dark-”

“I’ll probably be sewing.” Sarah stifled a yawn and was surprised when Mr. Rogers scooped her up. “Where do you think you are taking me?”

“It's dark out and you don't know your way around yet. You are tired and need sleep. You’ll want to change before bed. Grab the lamp.”

Sarah grabbed the lamp from the table and Mr. Rogers took her outside and around the cabin to the bedroom. He paused while Sarah opened the door. “Not to worry, you’ll have all the privacy you’ll need. Call for me when you’re done and I’ll come get you.”

“But-”

“Please don’t argue with me. You won’t be able to see and I don’t want you to get injured. I’ll leave you.”

Mr. Rogers left and Sarah, suddenly alone, readied herself for bed as quickly as she could. When she had her shawl wrapped around her shoulders, helping her to feel closer to dressed than naked, she cracked opened the door and called to him.

“Mr. Rogers?”

Sarah was unsure that he’d heard her. She tried again.

“Mr.-”

His form, barely lit by the lamp she held, appeared. “Are you-”

“Oh, so-”

“I didn’t wa-”

After some nervous laughter from both of them and more silence, Sarah ventured again.

“I didn’t think you’d heard me.”

“I was on the other side of the house. I didn’t want to hover. Are you decent? Is it okay for me to come in?”

“Yes, I’m ready.”

When he came in and picked her up, it didn’t matter that she had a shawl around her; Sarah felt like she was just about naked in his arms. She knew they needed to talk but she didn’t like the queasy feeling to her stomach and how nervous she felt. Instead of concentrating on him holding her when she wasn’t in her clothes, she concentrated on the path back to the house. She knew there would be a door, into the home, but she needed something, anything else to distract her.

Luckily, they didn’t have far to go and they were back inside. Mr. Rogers set her down on the floor in front of the bed and took a few steps back.

“There isn’t nearly enough space for the both of us on the bed, so I’ll take the floor tonight.”

“I couldn’t possibly let you do that.”

“No wife of mine will sleep on the floor as long as a bed is available.”

“But-”

“No use arguing, I’m used to getting my way.”

On the other side of the fireplace, blankets were piled on top of each other.

“Horse blankets,” he offered, by way of explanation.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

“I’ve dealt with worse. I want you to be comfortable, get you on the mend. We can talk about things tomorrow. Would you like to head into town with me?”

“That was such a long ride-”

“No, sorry, not- Viola, it’s in the other direction, much closer. There’s a dry goods store and it’s where I go to order things. I should be able to pick up the tub I ordered.”

“You don’t have a tub?” When he shook his head, Sarah wondered how he’d kept himself clean. She knew she’d never ask. “You ordered a tub?”

“I figured it would be easier for you than heading to the lake to bathe.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Bathing in the lake?”

“It has been just me, but I promise you: once we have the tub that will be how I take all my baths. Now, I think it’s time for us to go to sleep. It’s been a long day and I’d like to get an early start tomorrow, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind, not at all.”

They each got as comfortable as they could, she in the bed and he on the floor. A few minutes later-

“Good night, Mr. Rogers.”

Sarah wondered if he’d already fallen asleep since he didn’t answer right away. She heard some rustling before-

“Good night.”


	4. Chapter 4

****Mr. Rogers had been true to his word and had moved the furniture into the bedroom when it was completed the next day. Sarah filled everything up with their things and when they went to the local dry goods store, he noticed her looking around. While it was clear that she was looking for something, it took some digging on his part to get her to reluctantly admit she wanted to make some curtains for the windows and to make some better dresses, more suited for working the land and with the animals. He surprised her when he cracked a smile when she mentioned she wanted to make him some shirts and workpants, too.

_Are you saying my shirts are no good?_  
_Absolutely not! I would never say something-  
_ _I_ _’m just playing, Mrs. Rogers, I know you wouldn’t._

* * *

She asked for only two bolts of fabric for herself, figuring she didn’t need to make her working dresses too intricate and who cared if they were a drab blue and black. It would be easier to hide the dirt. She’d already decided to keep the ones she’d moved with as her nice going to church dresses. She looked at a third bolt, a pretty blue with little buttery-yellow flowers, and lingered, before bypassing it in favor of a couple more that were better suited for Mr. Rogers’ clothes. When they got home and he was taking all their purchases inside, she saw that, somehow, the fabric with the little yellow flowers had made the journey.

“How did that get here?”

“I saw you looking at it-”

“But I didn’t ask you to buy it.”

“Do you not want it?”

Sarah touched the fabric, sighing when she realized how soft it was. She would have loved having a dress in her favorite color but knew it would be frivolous. “I didn’t say that, but the expense-”

“Curtains.”

Mr. Rogers’ proclamation stopped her mid-sentence and she half-turned to face him. “What?”

“I think this would be good for the curtains you want to make.”

Glancing from the fabric to Mr. Rogers, Sarah studied both with equal intensity until a giggle erupted.

“What’s so funny?”

“The fabric, it matches your eyes.” _His eyes are my favorite color_. Sarah was sure the heat on her face was noticeable, and tried to cover. “You want this for the curtains?”

“You like it, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Then it’s settled.”

* * *

They both knew it would take time for them to get to know each other, but the problem with the period of adjustment for both Sarah and Mr. Rogers was that it was long.

Sarah had to get used to being around a giant of a man who was sometimes talkative, but with each passing day was quieter and quieter. Early on, he’d say the funniest things where she would swear his intent was to make her giggle. He started, though, to get in a funk and either grunt his answers or remain quiet. His changing demeanor kept her on her toes and she wondered if there was a reason for it. She didn’t like it, his changing moods. She tried to figure out if there was a pattern to what he said and how he acted, but for the life of her, she couldn’t.

What Sarah didn’t mind, not in the least, was that she was busy every single day. There was so much to do around the place that she could count on some activity that would keep her mind away from trying to figure him out. Whether waking early to make breakfast or taking care of the animals, to working the crops and making clothes for both of them, she could always count on being bone tired not long after the sun set. She realized how little she’d done while growing up to contribute to the running of the house and she finally understood some of her father’s rants about how little she’d appreciated what he’d done for her. She hoped that if he knew what she was doing now that he’d be proud of her.

It hadn’t been easy, putting together her routine, and sure, she hadn’t contributed to anything around her childhood home, but she had, as it turned out, somehow picked things up from her father. She knew you had to pay close attention to the crops to figure out what it was that they needed or to pay attention to the animals and how active they were so you could tell if they needed extra attention.

It was when she was working the land early in the summer that it hit her: she was going to need to plant even more if they were going to have enough food to survive that winter, and that thought made her stand straight up in the field and glance around, trying to assess if they had enough land cleared to plant anything else. She spent the better part of the afternoon trying to recall what it was that Cook made during the winter months, or how the woman had even had food to prepare. She knew she’d need to find out what she needed to do.

_A cellar, that was why he was building a cellar, right?_

She’d had dried fruit and vegetables, along with bread and ham and bacon, on the trip out west. She wondered how they’d dried everything and decided she needed to start testing ways to make their food last through the winter months.

Winter.

She was not pleased with the prospect of cold weather, mostly because she’d never had to endure it before she’d found herself in New York and she’d been wholly unprepared for its harshness. Growing up, she’d heard from her girlfriends about their trips to visit family and dealing with snow and ice, but she’d arrived in New York so late in the season that she had only had to be concerned with the chill in the air. Well, this year she mightn’t need to worry much, but not knowing what things would be like, her mind brought on all sorts of horrible thoughts. She needed to get prepared.

She tried planting a little bit of everything, wanting to understand what she could grow and what she needed to avoid. The idea of preserving and pickling foods meant she really needed to have a stove that she could use, and some more pots and pans, for what she had on hand had been good for one bachelor, but it would never do for a family.

Family. Steve. _Mr. Rogers_ , she corrected herself. He hadn’t asked her to call him by his given name, so she was sure that he was trying to figure out a way to get rid of her, and she was terrified of being on her own in an area where she knew a grand total of three people. Sure, she was being introduced around, and she always insisted to Mr. Rogers that they go to church each Sunday even though it meant most of the day they were stuck next to each other. Mr. Rogers being so quiet, and some would even say solemn, made it almost unbearable, but it was the only way she was getting to know her neighbors and other people in the area.

Boy, had Mary been wrong. It had been many months since their wedding and so much of the time he was still as grumpy as that fateful day and it still felt like they were two strangers living under the same roof.

Work got done around the farm. The crops were tended and they began to produce such a bounty and when she finally mentioned a stove, Mr. Rogers had one ordered and they had it within a few weeks. While Sarah was concerned about the amount of money that was being spent because of her, she figured that Mr. Rogers would tell her when he couldn’t afford something. Still, she was considerate and frugal in what she asked for, ensuring that she always had a logical reason for each request. She felt, though, like a child asking a parent for money each and every time.

Truth be known, she would have liked to have them be able to talk to each other like two people who were married, not two people who were simply living under the same roof.

While she liked being busy, she knew she kept herself busier than she needed, but she wanted to make herself indispensable so he wouldn’t have a single reason to kick her out. She figured if she fixed all the food and got things stocked for the winter, and made his cabin a real home, then maybe he’d figure that he’d keep her around.

He seemed to like what she’d done for him, making him some new clothes and giving the cabin some womanly touches. She’d been following Mary’s advice and following his lead on things, and it seemed to be working out, for the most part.

* * *

By mid-summer Sarah had settled into a routine that worked. The farm animals were multiplying on their own so they weren’t needing to eat as much fish as they had as when she’d first arrived and they were both grateful for that, although, Mr. Rogers still had to be the one to kill the chickens (Sarah was still too squeamish to do it herself).

There was one night when the two talked about sitting down to plan for keeping things running during the winter months, both for the animals as well as for them. By the time of that conversation, Sarah had her stove so she was making the best use of the cellar he’d built. Sarah was glad she’d convinced him to make it a good deal bigger than he’d originally planned. He seemed to be in a good mood for the better part of a week after that conversation, when she’d talked to him about the family that they’d written to each other about, and how large it would be and that, once the children were around, they wouldn’t have time to keep adding on, whether to the barn or the cellar or the house. It was with that realization that Mr. Rogers began working well into the night, as late as he could, to get his home ready for the family he’d said he longed to have.

He found he couldn’t dig too deep. As close to the lake as they were, the underground water was only a couple of feet below the surface. He changed the location of the cellar to be at the front of the house instead of in the rear so it would still be accessible from the home.

Sarah made good use of the stove, making preserves of the berries from the nearby bushes and pickling all kinds of vegetables. It got to a point where Mr. Rogers realized he needed to put shelves into the cellar to store everything she was making for them. This was, of course, after he’d spent more time than he’d cared to looking for her blackberry jam and not finding it, instead coming up empty handed and asking her why she was stocking so much food.

“You haven’t seen how much you go through, have you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have to go farther and farther into the forest to find those blackberries you love so much. You go through those preserves so fast, just like everything else.”

“It’s all your fault, they’re so good and I just have to have them with everything.”

“I’m glad I tried the second batch after the disaster that was my first.”

“Whatever formula you’ve come up with? It’s perfect.”

“Is that why you always go for them instead of the blueberry?”

“The blueberry are good, don’t get me wrong, but those blackberry, well I could eat a jar every day.”

“Every day! I haven’t found nearly enough to keep you in a jar a day. I hope I’ve found another that you’ll like, make the blackberry last longer.”

“Another?”

“A new berry I found. It was too tart to try anything now, but I think it’ll be quite delicious once it’s ripe. But if you want to eat the blackberry every day, you need to slow down. I only have two jars made up.”

“Two? I couldn’t find either of them.”

“They’re not down there.”

Sarah took a few steps to the cabinet in the corner and reached behind some empty jars, pulling out what Mr. Rogers had been looking for.

“I moved just about everything down there looking for these. Why didn’t you tell me they weren’t down there?”

“I put them someplace I could keep an eye on them, they were disappearing entirely too quickly.” She held out the jar to him and then snatched it back before he could take hold. “Wait, did you just say you moved everything?”

“Yes?”

“It took me the better part of an afternoon to organize everything down there.”

“I can put everything back the w-”

“Never you mind, I’ll take care of it. Besides, I had a particular way I’d come up with to organize everything.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

Sarah, upset over the prospect of having to reorganize everything, turned away from Mr. Rogers and missed what was sure to be the rest of his apology. It was when she turned back around that all she caught was him turning his back on her and running his hand through his hair. It was a gesture she’d begun to recognize as what he did when he was disappointed in her.

“I have an idea. I should have done this when I first built the cellar. I need to build you some shelves, help you keep things organized, make it easier for you to find things.”

Sarah didn’t know what to say. She’d wanted to ask him for shelves, but she’d been asking him for so many things: the stove and fabric and jars and pans and she’d asked for a cupboard for all his things so she could keep the cabin tidy, not to mention her insistence at them going to church each Sunday, even when she knew he was bone tired from all the work he’d done each week and probably wanted one day when he could just relax out by the lake. She’d tried to get him to take the big bed several weeks back after he’d had a particularly grueling couple of days, thinking that he needed the larger sleep area, but he wouldn’t let her, insisting that he was perfectly happy on that small bed in the front room that she’d been on her first night in her new home.

She’d wanted to give him a hug for thinking of her back then, and she wanted to even more now. She wanted, she wanted…

She wanted so much more from him, but she knew he didn’t want any of that from her. He’d kept her at arm’s length for so long and she was doing what she could to learn to live with a stranger. That didn’t mean, though, that she wouldn’t stop trying to break through his stony exterior.

“You mean so you can find your preserves.”

“I didn’t know you were hiding them from me, so that will be an added benefit.”

* * *

Mr. Rogers was as good as his word, making shelves for Sarah to organize all the food she’d been pickling and preserving. In fact, he made it his priority. In exchange, Sarah agreed to keep the preserves in the cellar. She was reluctant, at first, until Mr. Rogers pointed out that it would be easier for him to moderate what he ate if he knew how much there was remaining. She gave in to his logic and noticed that each jar lasted longer than those previous, and once she started making the wild raspberry, well, she didn’t have to worry any longer about the blackberry lasting: he’d found his new favorite.

As the summer progressed, and as Sarah saw her cellar become more and more full, she began relaxing and releasing her worry about having enough to eat come the winter months. Little did she know that her world was about to be turned upside down.


	5. Chapter 5

****It was only a few weeks after that, during the noticeably shorter days of late summer, several weeks prior to when  the leaves would start their gorgeous color change, when Sarah felt as if her life took an unexpected turn.

Mr. Rogers had let her know that he was going to be staying with Jimmy for several nights. Jimmy had finally found a woman who agreed to take the journey she’d taken (and Sarah marveled at how much it felt like that was a lifetime ago) and marry him. Sarah liked Jimmy. He had a good head on his shoulders even for how young he was and, like Mr. Rogers had, was working on his place, getting ready for his wife and for the family he wanted. He’d gone to their pastor for counsel and also to Mr. Rogers and knew he needed to be able to show that he would be a good provider. The two had been working on his cabin, getting it ready when Jimmy had received word from Miss Natalie Rousseau that she would be honored to become his wife.

Sarah was pleased Jimmy had found a wife and naturally she encouraged Mr. Rogers to spend extra time with him to help complete his cabin. She knew what Miss Rousseau would be experiencing on her journey out and, knowing how nice it had been to arrive and find she had a roof over her head, she wanted the same for the woman she hoped would become a dear friend.

Had she known what would happen, though, she might not have encouraged Mr. Rogers with such enthusiasm.

On one night in particular, Sarah had been so exhausted from being out in the sun working all day that she had fallen asleep in the midst of working on some long clothes, her latest addition to the layette she was preparing. She didn’t know when she’d be having children, but she wanted to be sure she was ready when the time came. She was so tired she fell asleep mid-stitch. She’d been asleep for several hours, head cocked to the side, when a ruckus and a loud bang woke her with a start. Her heart, immediately at a break-neck pace, made it difficult for her to catch her breath and listen to the commotion. She heard what she would have sworn was 10 men on horseback outside, approaching the cabin, and she panicked.

Not knowing what was going on, she didn’t want to abandon Mr. Roger’s cabin for fear that they would take the meager few possessions they had. While the stove was certainly valuable, she’d been using it so it would have been too hot to move. What little else they had was mostly tied up in all the food she’d preserved and in the livestock they had, so she knew it would be tough for anyone to abscond with anything.

It was about that time that she heard the cellar door flung open and a couple of jars topple to the ground. She was thankful for the soft earth when they didn’t break, and took several steps towards the door, intent on giving the interloper a piece of her mind when she heard heavy footsteps on the porch.

When the door flung open, crashing against the wall, Sarah screamed, sure she was about to die. Mr. Rogers, stumbling in, jars clutched in his enormous fists, was the last thing she expected.

“Shhhhhh!”

“Mr. Rogers! What are you doing here?”

“I live here.” He spun, lost his footing, and fell to the floor as he challenged her. “What are you doing here, Mrs. Rogers?”

Momentarily taken aback at what she mistook as a snarled question, Sarah did not recognize the slurred speech. Her eyes darted to the front door and she realized she wouldn’t be able to make it out of the cabin without him being able to grab her. Instead, she took a few tentative steps backwards, towards the bedroom.

“I… I-”

“Well?”

Sidetracked by watching the man try to stand up, still holding onto the jars as if they carried precious cargo, Sarah answered almost absentmindedly. “I- I live here, same as you.”

“Of course you live here. What have you been doing while I’ve been gone?”

Finally on his feet, Mr. Rogers swayed, to and fro, unsteady on his feet. Sarah took a couple more steps and stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

“I’ve kept myself productive. I put up more green beans and tomatoes, and I finished two of your shirts, and I-”

“Not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

Before he approached her, Mr. Rogers set down the jars he’d been holding. They were her latest creation and she momentarily wondered why he’d chosen something he hadn’t had.

“Did you miss me?”

She hadn’t caught the whole of what he’d said, and she was sure she’d misunderstood what little she had heard. “Beg pardon?”

No matter where he was, Mr. Rogers always made Sarah feel like the smallest person in the room when he was around, but she’d never felt intimidated or afraid. The way he approached her, though, made her take notice. Slow movements, eyes locked onto her, even if a little unfocused. She felt like a woodland creature that had fallen prey to a wolf. She couldn’t look him in the eye once he was in front of her, instead looking anywhere he wasn’t, until he put his finger under her chin, tilting her head back. The only light in the cabin was coming from the fire in the front room, so she had to squint to make out the features of his face.

“Did you miss me?”

Those few words, uttered directly in front of her, told her all she needed to know.

“You, sir, have been drinking.”

“Yes ma’am. Jimmy and I were-”

“I don’t like it when men drink.”

“Why not?”

“They become awful creatures.”

“You think I’m awful?” He dropped his hand, shouldering his way past her into the bedroom and away from her, talking only to himself. “That must be why-”

“No, I don’t. But-”

He’d spun upon hearing her _no_ , his feet not cooperating and knocking himself off balance, causing him to slam into the wall. “But, what?”

If she hadn’t been scared of provoking an angry response, Sarah would surely have laughed at his display and as he took longer than necessary to right himself and again approach her. “You are normally very civil and courteous. Men aren’t, though, when they’ve had too much to drink. I’d really prefer not to be around you when you’re like this.”

“You don’t want to be around me?” Even through the haze of alcohol he heard her fear.

“At the moment, no, but when you are sober and in your right mind-”

“I have been plenty sober since we met.”

“Yes, and we are around each other each night-”

“But, you don’t…”

She waited. Sarah waited for several minutes while he tried to put to words what was going on inside. Finally, she’d had enough and just wanted to go to sleep.

“Mr. Rogers?” She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t heard her or if he was ignoring her. “Mr. Rogers!”

“Yes, _Mrs. Rogers_?”

She didn’t understand the anger she heard and tears sprung to her eyes. She knew she needed to be far more careful than she had been.

“I think it would be wise for you to sleep off whatever it is that you got into-”

“Mrs. Rogers?”

“Yes?”

He opened his mouth to speak, yet didn’t. He took a couple of steps towards the bed and turned to face her. “That is a fine suggestion. I think I’ll do just that.”

He collapsed onto the bed, feet hanging off, and promptly passed out.

While she was initially perturbed that he’d taken her bed, she quickly corrected herself- _his house, his bed_ -and realized she was happy he’d made it home in one piece without falling off his horse and injuring himself. She glanced down at her hands and saw the shaking from the excitement she’d just been through and turned to exit the room when she quickly turned back, peering at his feet. He still had his shoes on, and they were muddy. She didn’t want to have to clean the bedding when she’d only washed everything a few days ago, so she wrestled with and took his boots off, lining them up at the foot of the bed. He looked to be in an awkward position and uncomfortable. She didn’t want him to wake up the next morning in any poorer a humor than what he would, given how much he’d obviously had to drink, so she poked and prodded him so he’d move.

“Sarah- no, no, sorry, forgive me, I didn’t mean… Mrs. Rogers…”

Sarah was positive her ears were betraying her. There was no way Mr. Rogers had just used her name. Or, maybe he had and was embarrassed about the slip and that was why he was turning over, away from her, not wanting her to see his embarrassment.

“Mr. Rogers?”

“Mmm?”

“Did you want something?”

He was restless, trying to fight off the drink that was still clouding his brain, and his body, and he was losing the battle. One eye barely squinted open as he tilted his head back to look at her.

“Will you never love me?”

He flopped onto his back and Sarah heard a snore erupt from him that she was sure would wake the dead. She was glad for the distraction and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

_Never love him? What was he talking about_ , Sarah wondered. _He doesn_ _’t love me, he doesn’t even like me. He knows he made a mistake marrying me, why would he want me to love him? Had he put on a facade the whole time? Was he really a cruel man, just like Father?_

She paced the cabin, trying to stem the rising panic as images flashed through her mind: their wedding day and how quiet he’d been once she agreed to marry him, the ride to his cabin that took several hours and not a word, every time they were in the buggy together on their way into town, and it wasn’t just when they were traveling together. How many times had he come home after a long day of working, either on his cabin or the cellar or the barn, or Jimmy’s place, or when he’d had enough of being around her and headed out to work with the other men in the area, all the lumberjacks, and not spoken a word to her until after he’d eaten, if even then? He was a man who could go for days on end where all he did was grunt his answers, and that was if she even asked any questions.

Sure, he did thank her for all she did, and seemed especially grateful for the clothes she made for him, and yes, he hadn’t ever complained once about all she was asking him to spend on her, although it wasn’t really for her but for his cabin and getting everything ready for him for winter.

He’d had some other kind words for her, like when he’d overheard her talking to their pastor, wanting to know how she could help with any of the local families who might need it. She’d been involved with doing many good works where she’d grown up and had wanted to continue the tradition. Or how she’d been patient with Jimmy in helping him to write his letters to his Miss Rousseau.

She’d thought he’d started to soften towards her, to think of her as his wife, but at church last week, when she’d brought a basket of food for the pastor to pass out amongst those who needed it, she’d looked at him and found him smiling at her, yet on the way home, he was as silent and sullen as always. How could she have disappointed him so profoundly when she was only trying to help others?

She didn’t understand it. Was he one person in public, and another in private?

She grabbed the long clothes from the floor where they’d fallen when Mr. Rogers had come home, and collapsed into the chair by the fire, needing to keep her hands busy and concentrate on anything that didn’t remind her of him and her impending fate. Her nerves kept her up for far longer than she wanted and when she was finally exhausted, she fell asleep.

* * *

Sarah woke with a start the next morning when Mr. Rogers groaned coming out of the bedroom.

“Is there any water?”

Sarah grabbed the jug and headed out the door, not wanting to give him a reason to be cross with her for not anticipating what he’d need. She responded on her way. “I’ll get some. Sit. I’ll be right back.”

“But-”

She hurried, as fast as she could, not wanting to hear what he had to say. On her way to the well, she ran over everything in her mind from the previous night, how he’d come home and said what he had, and his passing out and her staying up far too late and not anticipating his needs and falling asleep. She wondered if he was going to remember anything she’d said or worse, if he’d be angry.

_After I fetch the water, I_ _’ll make him some breakfast. That should make him feel better, take his mind off things, off our conversation last night. Maybe he won’t be angry…_

She had an idea on the way back, something that might help him, and if it helped him, maybe he wouldn’t be so disagreeable.

She spoke softly when she came in, knowing that, were he anything like Father, loud noises would set him off with the state he was in. “You know, I have my herbs, the ones that help me each month, maybe they’ll help you? How about I make you a tea and some breakfast. I can have food for you in a little bit. Is that something you’d like?”

She poured some water into his cup and handed it to him before stoking the embers in the stove and adding wood so she could make the tea and fix his breakfast.

“Breakfast!” She scrambled for the basket she always used when fetching vegetables or eggs. “Let me go get the eggs. I’ll be back.”

“No, please, Sarah-”

_First last night, now this morning. What is with him calling me Sarah?_

She turned in time to see him fall to the floor, cup tumbling out of his hand and water going everywhere. When he didn’t move she knelt by him, ready to rouse him. She put her hand on him and shook him once before she registered the heat coming off his body. She lay her palm on him and then remembered what her mother always did and rested her cheek against his forehead.

He was burning up.

_Mr. Rogers was running a fever!_


	6. Chapter 6

****Sarah stayed there, hunched over Mr. Rogers, for longer than one might think she would. Back when Mother was alive, she would have seen a flurry of activity as whoever had fallen ill would be carried to their bed and Mother began to see to their needs. Sarah had only ever been aware of the need for action, she hadn’t thought she’d need to know what needed to happen. She was sure, though, that she needed to get his fever to come down.

But how? Were he conscious, she’d have him drink some cool water, and then the thought crossed her mind that she couldn’t carry the giant of a man sprawled out on the floor in front of her, so how would she get him to bed?

As she stood, she remembered she’d had occasion to move the drawers in the bedroom so she could hang the curtains she made when she first arrived, and she couldn’t move the heavy wooden furniture on her own. She knew she could have waited for Mr. Rogers to come inside, but he was working and she didn’t want to make him work even more. She’d wanted to have things done and settled by the time he saw it, so she’d tried and tried and tried for what she thought was surely hours, until she realized that, while she couldn’t lift the whole piece of furniture at once, she could lift each corner. Sarah had looked around the room and, spying the bedding, thought it might be possible to lift each corner, put the bedding under and, hopefully, maybe she could drag it out of the way.

It took a few tries, but she was finally able to make it work and Mr. Rogers had furrowed his brow at her when she wouldn’t give up her secret as to how she’d moved the large piece of furniture out of her way with _a lady never tells her secret._

Surely this would work with people, too.

_Except, maybe I shouldn_ _’t put him in the big bed, maybe the smaller one here in the front room would be better: closer to water and the fire if need be, though, he’d be more comfortable in the bigger bed. Yes, comfort for the sick man is better._

Now having a purpose, Sarah got the bedding and set it up next to Mr. Rogers, hoping she’d be able to roll him onto it. It took some poking and prodding and shoving and grunting and more than her fair share of sighs before she got him onto the fabric. Winded and dizzy when she stood, Sarah pressed forward knowing she needed to get him into the bedroom and somehow into the bed before her brain could delve further into her memories and remember what Mother had always done.

Using every ounce of strength she had, Sarah dragged Mr. Rogers into the bedroom. She fell a few times when she lost her footing, the first time biting her lip, bringing tears to her eyes. She knew she had to be a sight, sure that Mr. Rogers would have been laughing at the scene she was making, but she had her purpose in mind and she was resolved to get that man into bed.

Once in the bedroom, Sarah sat on the bed and looked down on Mr. Rogers, seeing how flushed he was and feeling panic try to overtake her. She shoved it back down, not wanting to give way to those emotions and, instead, wondered how to get him into bed.

_If I prop him up_ _… that won’t do any good, I still can’t lift him.  
_ _What if_ _… no, that still requires me to lift him.  
_ _Why does he have to be so big?_  
That is one of the things you like about him. Sarah! Stop that!   
How do I get him into bed?

She saw drops of water falling onto her lap and looked at the ceiling, assuming there was some sort of leak. She was puzzled when she saw no water coming in until she realized that, in her frustration, she’d started to cry.

That would not do.

Recalling the previous night and how she’d been able to get Mr. Rogers to move on the bed after he’d passed out, she decided to try that tactic here.

She began by poking and prodding him and nudging his shoulder, hoping that would be all that would be needed to rouse him.

“Silly, he didn’t wake when you dragged him in, why would he wake with gentle nudges?” She took a deep breath and calmed herself before addressing him. “Mr. Rogers?” She waited a bit before addressing him again. And again. And again.

Nothing seemed to be working. She raised her voice, getting more and more frustrated with each passing minute.

She almost gave in and stopped. A thought crossed her mind, though, that strengthened her resolve.

_What if I_ _’m fighting for my husband’s life? What would I do if he wasn’t around? What would become of me?_

“Mr. Rogers!”

He moved. Only slightly, but he did move.

_Maybe, oh, maybe-_

She tried again. “Mr. Rogers!”

No movement this time and all the hope Sarah had started to feel evaporated.

No!

“Mister Rogers!” She didn’t have time to wonder where her resolve or strength came from, she was only happy they decided to show up. She wasn’t gentle with him as she pushed and shoved at his shoulders, hoping to get him to wake up.

“Mister Rogers wake up!” She grew tired, the physical exertion being more than what she was used to before breakfast, but she didn’t let that deter her. She closed her eyes, focusing all her efforts on waking him.

“Steve!”

She was just about to shove at his shoulder, far harder than she had previously, when she heard his low voice, “gosh, you’re pretty.”

She wasn’t able to stop her momentum and toppled onto him, getting up almost as quickly as her fall had been.

“You’re awake!”

“That’s odd.”

“What?”

“Normally, women say thank you when I tell them they’re pretty.”

Sarah’s chest burned, her heart fluttering with as fast as it was going. Had it been all the exertion, or was this jealousy she was feeling?

“And how many women have you told that to?” She couldn’t help the hurt she heard in her question.

_Maybe that was why he hasn_ _’t warmed to me: there is another woman._

“Two. Mama and you.”

She studied him, wanting his words to be the truth but afraid he was only saying what she wanted to hear. She saw little beads of sweat at his hairline and his cheeks and ears were pink.

_How could I be thinking about myself when he has a fever?_

“And that’s how you know women say thank you? Because your Mama said thank you?”

“She did.” When he closed his eyes, Sarah was on the verge of starting back up. His eyes opened again and settled on her. “Why were you yelling and carrying on?”

_How long was he awake?_

“I was trying to get you to wake up. I need you to get up, get in bed. Can you stand?”

“Of course I can stand.” He struggled when sitting up, his exertion causing his his arms to shake under the strain. “Think I’ll just sit up for now.” He slumped back against the heavy wooden bedframe and closed his eyes, breathing heavily.

Sarah wiped at the beads of sweat on his forehead.

_I have got to get him to cool down. Water!_

“Let me go get you some water.”

She wasn’t gone for more than a minute, returning with a cup and the pitcher. Kneeling on the floor next to him, she held it out to him.

“Steve, please, drink this.”

“I’m cold.” She stroked his cheek with the back of her fingers, getting him to look at her. “You’re hand’s so cold.”

“That’s the fever, you’re burning up. Drink this, and then we’ll get you up and into bed, we’ll get you comfortable and get that fever out of you.”

It took coaxing and time for her to get Mr. Rogers to drink the water and into bed. Along the way, she had him remove his pants and then she unbuttoned and removed his shirt, leaving him in his underthings. It was only a glancing thought that passed through her mind about how little he was wearing. She needed to get his fever under control.

She lost count of the number of trips she took to get fresh, cool water from the well, periodically stopping in to make sure the animals were okay, and how many times she had to rouse him from his slumber to drink more. Sure, his eyes opened often and there were words that would come out of his mouth, but most of the time his words made no sense.

She marked the passage of time by where the sun was. Before she knew it, it was night. While she wanted to curl up into a ball and go to sleep, she wouldn’t dare: if something happened to him while she was asleep, she’d never forgive herself.

She was relentless throughout the night and well into the next day, taking the covers off him when he got too hot and laying a cooled cloth on his forehead, and then covering him up when he got chills, wiping any remaining moisture from his forehead. There were a few times that it changed so quickly that she’d only just pulled everything off of him only to put it right back on. That was the only time he was coherent.

She found herself squinting and didn’t understand why she couldn’t see when she glanced at the window and it was almost dark. _A day and then some. I_ _’ve been at this for so long._ She licked her lips, chapped from all the worrying and took a few sips of water to quench her own thirst. She lit a lamp and worked through her own hunger, continuing to dip the cloth in the water to wipe him down, hoping to cool him.

It was hours later, the sky as black as the cellar at night, when a memory came to her and she wondered how she might be able to make it work.

When her eldest brother, Thomas, was 15, he’d come down with a fever that wouldn’t go away. Mother had the servants take him to the stream out back of their house and put him in, cold water flowing over him. He’d cried, saying she was trying to kill him, but his fever came down after that.

The problem was, she didn’t have anything like that. She couldn’t carry him down to the lake.

_Maybe_ _…_

She gathered all the extra cloth and set up a spot on the floor for him to lay on-

_After everything I did to get him into bed-_

She brought her washing tub into the bedroom and opened the windows, feeling the cool night air filter into the room.

_Why didn_ _’t I do this sooner?_

She made several trips to the well and filled the tub, hoping her scheme would work.

Once everything was set up, she turned to look at him and saw his eyes open and on her.

“I know this is going to be difficult, but I need you to get on the floor.”

“You just had me get on the bed.”

“That was yesterday morning and I’m pretty sure your fever hasn’t budged.”

She was sure he’d fallen unconscious again, until, “why am I getting on the floor?”

“I’m going to cover you with this cloth and pour water on you and let the cool night air work its magic and bring your fever down.”

“That does not sound like fun.” He rolled to his side before sitting up. Sarah was by his side in an instant, tugging on his shirt. While she figured bare skin would be best, she couldn’t bring herself to take off his one remaining undergarment. He started to slide from the bed to the floor and Sarah just about panicked.

“Please don’t f-”

He landed with a thud and groaned when he closed his eyes. Sarah knelt next to him, wiping the hair plastered to his forehead.

“Are you okay?” He reached for her hand on his leg, what she used to steady herself, and squeezed it without answering. “Steve, are you okay?”

His eyes, still bright with fever, were slow to open and focus on her. He nodded.

“Okay, this will probably be uncomfortable, but it should help. Can you lie down for me?”

He nodded once more before unceremoniously stretching out on the floor. Right before applying the soaking wet cloths, Sarah recalled something she’d overheard Mother saying, something about drawing the heat out of the trunk, concentrating on the extremities first. She decided to start with his feet and legs and work her way up from there.

She took it slow, soaking each piece of cloth before carefully laying it on him, first on his feet, then his legs. She waited a few minutes before putting them on his arms and then a few more minutes before putting them on his torso and finally on his head. Once covered, she removed each cloth, wrung it out, and dipped it in the cool water only to reapply it. Over and over and over she went through the ritual, saying a prayer with each cloth.

_Lord, God above, please do right by this good and honorable man. He has been so kind to me, opening his home up to me, providing me with all I might need in this life. He has been generous, with nary a word uttered when I have asked for anything I needed. He, a stranger, has been a better provider than my own father was. Please spare his life so that I may show him my appreciation and provide him a home and the family he longs for. Please do for him, so that I may do for him. Amen._

While she felt selfish, knowing she wasn’t properly confessing everything that was in her heart, what she did confess was the truth. Over and over she said the prayer as over and over she worked to break his fever.

She headed back out to the well after a few hours, having gone through all the water she’d carried in. When she was out there she realized she hadn’t taken care of the animals in a while and dropped the pail on the ground as she ran into the barn to check on them. Happy she’d developed the habit of providing more food than was necessary, she saw that all the animals needed was some fresh water. She filled up the troughs before heading back out to fill up the pail for her trip inside.

Now, had she not been so tired from having been up for more than a day, surely she would have seen the creature before she happened upon it.

Unfortunately for her, and for her ankle, she didn’t.

Whatever it was- _beady eyes glowing in the dark and movements so fast_ -darted in front of her, probably more afraid of her than she was of it, although, with the blood-curdling scream she let loose one might not win that argument. Her foot landed hard in a divot and she tripped and fell, careful to not let the lamp crash and start a fire while the empty pail went flying.

Sarah took a few moments to get herself under control before standing. She crumpled, though, with her first step when the excruciating pain shot down to her foot and up to her knee. Slapping a hand over her mouth to try to silence the cry that erupted from her, she took extra time to let the wave of pain-induced nausea pass.

She took the opportunity, once in control and ready for the pain that was sure to let loose again, to move her foot, hoping she hadn’t broken anything. Luckily, she hadn’t. That didn’t mean, though, that there was no pain.

This time when she stood, she moved her foot, trying to figure out if there was a way to walk with no pain. While there wasn’t, she found that if she took it slow and moved her ankle the least amount possible, it was bearable, just.

It took longer than she wanted to gather the pail and more water and head inside. She was sure that Steve would still be unconscious.

She could only just make out the cry from within the cabin. “Sarah!”

“I’m okay, I’m coming!” She knew what she was in for when the pain reappeared, so it was only a whimper that could be heard through her clenched jaw each time she took a step. She couldn’t waste any time on her problem when Steve was awake and fighting his fever.

The steps up to the porch were more of a challenge so she took them one at a time, and she heard her limp echo as she walked into the cabin and to the bedroom.

“I heard you scream and I tried to get up but I’m just too weak.” Sarah heard his labored breath and hurried to the wash tub, dumping in the pail of cool water. “Thank the good Lord above you’re alright, Sarah. What happened?”

By the time he was done, she was at his side, kneeling, and once again starting the process of removing and wetting the cloth, beginning at his feet. “No need to worry about me.”

He sat up and grabbed the hand closest to him.

“You’re my wife, I’ll always worry about you. What happened?”

“Some critter startled me, that’s all.”

“You screamed twice, and you were limping, did it attack you? Did it hurt you?”

“I fell, and twisted my ankle-”

“Let me see.”

“My ankle can wait, your fever can’t.”

“I’m feeling better-”

“You’re still burning up.” Sarah lay her hand on his cheek, expecting the same temperature she’d felt all day, and was surprised when he felt like he was almost back to normal. _I must be so hot from all the excitement and exertion._ She wiped at his face, holding it in her hands as she lay her cheek alongside his, and still he felt cooler. “But you’re…” Shoving the sleeve up her arm, she lay her wrist on his forehead, still not finding the fever that had been raging inside of him all day.

“You’re not burning up-”

“You got my fever down.”

“I don’t think it’s completely gone, you still feel warm.”

“But I’m better than I was. What was that last thing that you did? I think it did the trick.”

“The eldest in my family, Tom, got really sick when he was 15, I think. I remember Mother almost getting sick over all the worrying she did over him, and it was days and days that he ran a fever. Mother finally told the servants to take him down to the creek and that really helped him to cool down. I didn’t want to wait days and days with you since I’m alone here. I can’t take care of the animals and everything else around here and take care of you, too, so when I remembered it I decided to try it, well, without carrying you to the lake. It might not be permanent, your fever could still come back, so you need to drink water.”

“I don’t think I can drink anymore.”

“Steve, that just won’t do. You need to keep cooling down your insides. I don’t care if you feel water-logged for a while, I won’t have you getting sick again.”

Sarah got up to fetch some more water, but it was all for nothing. She’d forgotten about the pain from her injury and as soon as it hit, she cried out, toppling onto Steve.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry-” she tried several times to get off him, but each time she did, she couldn’t help but use the injured foot and soon, tears started down her face.

“It’s okay, take your time.”

She tried one more time but still couldn’t get up. Steve took matters into his hands.

“Maybe you should stay off your ankle.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“You are not well.”

“I am perfectly fine.”

“Steve, you had a fever.”

She couldn’t understand his smile. It didn’t make any sense to her.

“Is that all it took?”

“What?”

“Is that all it took?”

“Is what… I beg your pardon, but what-”

“I would have gotten sick months ago if I’d known that was all it would take to get you to call me Steve.”


	7. Chapter 7

****Panic! She couldn’t help but panic when she realized she’d been calling him by his name.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Rogers, I won’t-”

He cut off her words and her scramble to get up when he put his hand on her arm. “Please don’t do that.” The gentleness to his voice was a surprise until Sarah realized he hadn’t eaten since he got home. He wasn’t being gentle, he was weak. _Weak! He must still be sick!_

She felt her heart pick up speed and searched around the room for the cup she’d dropped. “I need you to keep drinking water. We can’t let your fever come back.” She spied it and tried to move, her ankle protesting every time she put any weight on it. She huffed her frustration as she turned over and sat on his legs. “You are entirely too big and I can’t get you back up into bed on my own. We should dry you off and get you back into bed. You need sleep, Mr. Rogers.” When he didn’t move, Sarah knew something was up. She glanced at him and saw his lips had disappeared. “What?”

His jaw muscled worked, like he was clenching his teeth. Sarah felt the beginning of fear creep into her mind as she looked away. His voice was soft when he addressed her. “I’d really prefer if you’d use my name.”

Surprise overtook her as her jaw dropped open, head swiveling back so she could look at him. Not having realized it could be possible, her heart sped up faster. She felt a little light-headed and wasn’t sure what was going on, why she felt so flustered. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, hoping she wouldn’t feel too hot, wondering if she might be getting sick. She didn’t want to get sick. She was sure that Steve wouldn’t know what to do if she came down with a fever. Her response to his question was almost automatic. “You would?”

“Married people ought to call each other by their names, not be so formal, shouldn’t they, Sarah?”

Mesmerized at hearing her name from his lips, lips she couldn’t tear her eyes away from, it took her longer than normal to respond. “They should?”

“Is it okay to call you Sarah?”

She felt her face heat up and this time knew it wasn’t sickness. She couldn’t help her broad smile, nor did she want to. The overwhelming urge to confess to him had her glancing away. “I wish you would. I’ve longed to hear you call me by my given name.”

“For how long?”

“Since we got married.”

“That was so long ago. Why didn’t you say something?”

“Why should I need to? We’re married.”

“You don’t remember, do you? The morning we met, before we got married, I called you Sarah and you- you objected, you told me you hadn’t invited me to call you Sarah, so I waited for your permission.” She recalled that morning and the false bravado covering up for the fear and relief she’d felt when she knew he was Mr. Rogers. “I’ve been waiting this whole time for permission. I thought you’d regretted agreeing to marry me.”

_That was a lifetime ago_. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s a simple misunderstanding.”

“Here I’ve been, taking my lead from you and you’ve been waiting on me!” Relief swept over her as her skin tingled.

When he opened his mouth to speak, his stomach made its presence known with a loud grumble that caught both of them by surprise. Sarah even laughed.

“I am so sorry about that-”

“Why are you apologizing? You haven’t eaten in at least a couple of days, and who knows if you ate enough while you were at Jimmy’s-”

“He’s not nearly as good a cook as you are-”

“-plus you came home so drunk the night before last-”

“Don’t remind me. Will you ever forgive me?”

Steve asking for forgiveness halted her thoughts. “Why would I need to forgive you?”

“I should never have had that much to drink, and I should not come home like that, subject you to that. I took your bed-”

“It’s your bed-”

“I made it for you, and you’ve been the one sleeping in it these past months, not me.” He stopped and glanced about the dimly lit room. “Where did you sleep?”

Sarah considered her answer before she opened her mouth. She was tempted to lie and say she’d slept in the other bed, but she was so happy they were starting to talk that she didn’t want to mess anything up by telling him things that weren’t true.

“I fell asleep in the chair.”

“Why didn’t you use the bed?”

“I was…” She almost blurted it out and thankful she hadn’t.

“What?”

_Be vague, Sarah._ “I was thinking and before I knew it, I fell asleep.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“About… things.”

“You can’t tell me?”

“Well…”

“Please?”

At just that moment, looking into Steve’s eyes and knowing they were her favorite color, even if she couldn't see it in the dimly lit room, she knew she’d never be able to keep a secret from him. “I was thinking about what you said before you passed out.”

“Oh.”

Her stomach started to feel topsy-turvy. “You sound like you remember what you said.” She couldn’t believe he nodded. “You remember that?”

“Vaguely.”

“Oh.”

“What were you thinking, about what I said?”

“I don’t think I’m ready to talk to you about that.”

“Oh.”

Silence descended, surrounding them as they each wondered what the other might say.

“Please tell me you haven’t been sleeping in that chair every night.”

“Just the night you came home drunk.”

“So you used the other bed for the past couple of nights?”

She shook her head as she responded. “I was tending to you, trying to get your fever down.”

“So you didn’t? Don’t tell me you’ve been up this whole time.”

“I’m sure I dozed a bit here or there-”

“You have not had any sleep and you’ve been tending to me? You’re the one who needs the bed.” Sarah rolled off his lap and sat on the floor as he struggled as he got up, visibly shaking with the effort. He collapsed onto the bed.

“Steve, I don’t think you should try to do anything but dry off and get back into bed.”

“I need-”

“You need to regain your strength. I can’t have you getting sick all over again. I cannot go through that again. Let me go get you some dry clothes and we’ll get you dry and I’ll go make you something to eat.”

“But I-”

“No, you will do what I say.” This time, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get up on her own, Steve stopped her with hands on her shoulders when she moved. She glanced up at him and he held his hands out to her.

“Grab my hands.”

“What?”

“Your ankle, you can’t stand on your own. Grab my hands and I’ll help you up.”

“You barely got onto the bed yourself, how are you supposed to help me?”

“I weigh at least twice as much as you and I’m already up here. Come on, I’ll pull you up.”

Surprised as to his confidence, Sarah put her hands in his and Steve easily pulled her to her feet and quickly grabbed her waist, elbows on his knees, barely letting her feet touch the floor. She hadn’t been prepared to be so close to him.

She put her hands on his. “You can let go of me.”

He tilted his head back and looked at her for more than a few seconds. She didn’t recognize his voice when he spoke. “What if I don’t want to?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What if I don’t want to let go of you?”

She wiped at his damp hair, pushing it off his forehead so she could feel him, see if he was under the spell of a fever again.

He wasn’t, and she hadn’t been prepared for that.

“Um, you need food and water and sleep.”

“I don’t think I need any of that.”

“No?” Her hands had a mind of their own, wiping at his face, feeling smooth skin give way to his beard. _So soft._ “What do you need?”

He didn’t answer her. She thought, for sure, she thought he was going to kiss her, and if he hadn’t just been sick, he might have. Instead, he set her back on her feet but still held her upright, testing her ankle, and wincing every time she made a face.

“Let me go make you something to eat, Steve, you have to be hungry.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“But you-”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself for me, Sarah.”

“It’s my job.” Before he could ask the question that she saw forming, she spoke up. “I’m your wife. I need to take care of you.”

“You’ve been taking care of me for the past two days. I’m fine. I’m fine because of you.”

“Steve…”

He tugged her a little closer and deposited her on his knee, providing relief for both of them. Sarah didn’t understand the look in his eyes.

“Say my name again?”

“Steve-”

“I like hearing you say my name, Sarah.”

“And I like saying it. But I need you to drink some more water and I want you to eat. You need to get your strength back.”

He sat a little taller, his grin lopsided. “I think I just showed you that I have plenty of strength.”

“Maybe to pick me up, but you barely got yourself up. That fever took just about everything out of you and you need to-”

“I need to talk to my wife.”

“Steve, tomorrow. We have tomorrow. I need for you to get better first.”

“I am better.”

She pushed up off his knee, determined, and hobbled to the door before turning and looking back at him.

“I am going to go get some eggs and some bread and your favorite jam-” She was only momentarily distracted by Steve’s grin. “And water,” and laughed at his groan before continuing. “And I’m going to feed you and you’re going to get some sleep. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

“It sounds to me like I don’t have a choice.”

“You don’t.” She turned, limping as she grabbed her basket. She heard Steve call to her from the other room.

“Do you promise we’ll talk tomorrow?”

“I promise.”


	8. Chapter 8

****The chickens most definitely did not like being disturbed from their slumber in the dead of night, but Sarah didn’t care. She knew she needed to get some food into Steve before he slept. She finished gathering the eggs and headed to the cellar to pick up the bread before heading inside. It took her far longer than she would have preferred, but her ankle really wasn’t going to stop throbbing anytime soon.

When she finally made it back inside, she checked on Steve and found him asleep. She was by his side as quickly as she could be and felt his forehead, concerned that his fever might be coming back. Saying a silent prayer of thanks when she found his skin cool to the touch, she considered waking him so he could eat. He looked peaceful, though, and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him. He’d been so out of it for the past couple of days, but that wasn’t rest. That had been his body doing everything in its power to fight off the fever.

Sarah approached the lamp and stepped on something, hearing water squish out under her feet. It took her sleep deprived brain a few extra seconds to realize what it was: his wet underthings. As tired as she was, and as much as her ankle hurt, she grabbed the lamp and spun to look at the slumbering form. She realized she hadn’t paid attention when she was by his side as she saw the skin of his shoulders poking out from under the blanket.

_I didn_ _’t bring in other… underthings… oh goodness, oh goodness…_

She was rooted to the spot upon which she stood, wondering what she should do.

_Wait, why should I do anything? He is asleep and obviously needs his rest._

She pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and turned the lamp down yet left it lit so he could have light in case he woke, and set it back on the dresser away from the bed. She didn’t want him bumping into anything and catching the cabin on fire. That would not do.

Bending over to pick up his wet things, she dropped them into the washbin and picked it up, removing it from the room and closing the door behind her.

_I_ _’ll take care of them tomorrow._

Tomorrow.

_He wants to talk tomorrow. I wonder what he wants to talk about?_

She ran over the events of the past days in her head, recalling his query about whether or not she’d ever love him and the realization that they were both waiting for the approval of the other.

_Should I have listened to Mrs. Wilson? Should I have taken my cue from Steve and let him lead the way?_

Mary’s advice, to wait for Mr. Rogers, Steve, to lead the way, had seemed prudent at the time. It still felt prudent as far as Sarah was concerned. Maybe she could ask Steve what he thought. As unfamiliar with marriage as she was, other than the cooking and cleaning and keeping house, she preferred to follow the lead of the head of the household.

She glanced about the room and found the long clothes she’d been working on days ago and picked them up. Feeling only marginally more secure in her place in Steve’s life, she was able to get only a few stitches done before she fell fast asleep.

* * *

Being picked up was what woke her that morning.

“I don’t- what are you- Steve, what are you doing?”

His voice soft, Sarah had to strain to hear him. She would have sworn he said “I am taking my wife to bed.”

“What?”

“You need sleep. I don’t think you’ve slept since I came down with the fever and from what you told me last night, you’ve only slept in that chair since I’ve been home.”

“But you need-”

He shushed her before he spoke. “I’m fine. I’m hungry, but I’m fine.”

“Then I need to make you breakfast.”

He stopped next to the bed, not letting her down yet. “What do you think I did before you got here? Do you think I didn’t eat? I know how to fix eggs.”

“But-”

“No. I don’t want you to get sick. You need sleep.”

He deposited her on the bed. She glanced down and saw she was on fresh linens.

“You changed-”

“Yes, I did. I didn’t want you sleeping in any sickness of mine.”

She pet the fabric, astonished he’d thought of her. “How long have you been up.”

“A little while.”

“You were running a fever yesterday.” Glancing up at him she did her best to sound stern, make him listen to reason. “You should be the one in bed sleeping.”

“I don’t need anymore sleep.”

She heard his tone: he wasn’t about to go back to sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were entirely too peaceful. I would have let you be, but I need to eat and I knew that would wake you and you’d insist on feeding me.”

Sarah couldn’t keep her eyes open when she yawned, using the back of her hand to cover her mouth.

“See, you need sleep more than I do.”

“But the animals-”

“I can tend to them today. Besides, your ankle-”

“It’s fine.”

She tried to get out of bed, only to have Steve block her, shaking his head. He encouraged her to settle on the bed and sat next to her. “You twisted your ankle pretty bad and there is no way you are better yet. You need rest.”

“But-”

“Sarah, lay down and get some rest.”

“But I’ll need to cook, get supper ready.”

“I can fix a stew. It won’t be as good as one of yours, but I can cook.”

When another thought popped into her head, Sarah almost bolted out of bed before Steve put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She protested. “Today’s Sunday, we need to-”

“Not this week. We’ll go next week.”

“But the pastor was-”

“He can wait. Sarah, everyone else, including me, can wait. You need sleep. I want you to get some sleep, in your bed. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Sarah realized he was not going to take no for an answer so she put her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.

When Steve saw that she was finally settling down and wasn’t going to get up, he left, closing the door so he wouldn’t wake her.

* * *

It was early afternoon when Sarah woke. For a moment, she couldn’t figure out why she was in bed and in a dress until the fog of sleep lifted.

Up and out of bed like a flash, and ignoring her still throbbing ankle, Sarah was out in the front part of the cabin before Steve knew she was awake. She skidded on the wood floor, stumbling to a stop, when she found him in his chair, taking a look at the long clothes she’d been making.

“You’re up. Your ankle, how are you feeling?”

By his side in an instant, she felt his forehead. “I should be asking that of you. How are you? Are you warm?” Relieved that he was not warm to the touch, her hand lingered as it had earlier. She wiped at his forehead.

“I’m fine, Sarah. How is your ankle?”

She thought for one brief moment to ignore his question. She knew, though, that Steve would not be deterred.

“The sleep helped some, but it will take a couple of days to be back to normal.” Realizing her hand was still on his forehead, she quickly pulled it away before absentmindedly wiping it on her skirt. “Thank you.”

“It appears we are both on the mend. I’ve been inside for so long, I thought a walk might do me some good. Would you care to join me?”

She tried to figure out a way to delay the conversation she knew he wanted to have. She’d gone so long with only a few words between them each day and she knew that might be- _probably was_ -about to change. She wanted her bearings for the conversation that lay ahead of them. Who knew what Steve wanted to discuss. It could be any manner of things.

So much had happened in such a short period of time, so much new information, so much that was bound to change her life, and she felt like she was still shaking off the feeling of dread from the past couple of days, from wondering if Steve was going to succumb to the fever that had held onto him. Sure, it was only a few days, but truth be told: she felt like it had been a lifetime.

“You know, I’d love to, but I think I should eat something, and I need to tend to the animals and take a look at your crops-”

“Sarah?”

“Yes?”

“I took care of all that after I had breakfast. The animals are all good and everything is watered and tended for the day.”

“Everything?”

Steve had already decided he needed to be far more patient with Sarah than he had been since they first met. He nodded, hoping that she’d start to calm down. “How about I fix you something to eat-”

“You shouldn’t be waiting on me-”

“After what you did for me? Nursing me back to health? Of course I should. I didn’t eat everything you’d left out. There are still a couple of eggs and some of the bread. It should only take a few minutes-”

“Thank you, Steve, but I can cook for myself.”

“You’re not going to let up on this, are you?”

“No. I want you to take it easy. I don’t want you to have a relapse. I don’t want- I can’t-”

Steve got up while she was fidgeting and gestured to her chair. “Sarah, please, sit.”

“But-”

“Sit,” he insisted.

In a bit of a quandary, and a stare-down with Steve, Sarah finally did as he asked. He moved his chair directly in front of her and sat back down. He took one of her hands in his and placed it back on his cheek, his hand covering hers.

“I don’t have a fever. I’m fine. I feel much better. I ate-”

“You need to drink water.”

“I wish you’d let me finish.”

She felt like a child at Daddy’s knee, but only for a moment. Steve wasn’t yelling like her Daddy had. No. He was being gentle and quiet. It didn’t mean, though, that she didn’t feel like she was about to be lectured. She pulled her hand from under his, sitting ramrod straight with her hands in her lap, prepared for the worst.

“I was about to say that I had water. I’ve had a lot of water, in fact.”

“Oh.”

“I heard what you said last night, that I need to do as you asked so I am, I’ve had water, I ate, I slept, and I’m fine. You can stop worrying about me.”

“But-” She glanced down and understood why the fingers on her left hand were in pain: she’d grabbed them with her right, squeezing, preparing for the dressing down she was going to get. She wasn’t surprised when she saw the tears fall, she was in pain, after all. What surprised her was that they continued to fall, even once she let go and no longer felt pain.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?”

“I- I…” She wasn’t sure, and when the words came to her, she wondered if she should even say them. She didn’t like the silence she’d been living in, feeling like at any moment things could turn bad if she didn’t do everything exactly perfectly. She didn’t want to live like that any longer. She still couldn’t look at him, but she decided she needed to say what was on her mind. “Since we arrived here, the day of our wedding, I knew you would take care of me and our family. I knew you were serious when I saw how much work you’d done on your cabin-”

“Please, don’t call it that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not mine.” Sarah’s eyes grew wide, not understanding how the cabin she’d been living in for months wasn’t his. She looked up at Steve and couldn’t understand his sad smile as he continued his confession. “It’s ours. I think it’s more yours than mine. It feels more like a home since you moved in. The first day you were here it felt more like home than any place I’ve lived since Mama died.”

Sarah didn’t know what to do with herself. It had become entirely too intimate too quickly for her. She’d gone from a virtual stranger to a caretaker to a- she wasn’t sure what she was, but what she knew was that she needed some air. She’d been cooped up for entirely too long.

Her chair scraped at the floor as she stood, the sound grating on her nerves, announcing her movement.

“Where are you going, Sarah?”

“I’m going to go out-”

“I thought you were hungry. Don’t you want to eat?”

Desperate for any reason to get away, to come to an understanding about what was going on inside of her, Sarah blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I need some fresh air.”

“Your ankle, let me come with you.”

“I don’t think that’s wise. I don’t think you’re well enough. You only just got rid of your fever a few hours ago.”

“I’ve already been outside, remember? I tended the animals and watered the crops, just like I told you. I don’t understand. Do you not want me to come along?”

Sarah didn’t know how to answer Steve. All he wanted to do was help, but she couldn’t have that. She knew she was delaying everything by simply not speaking up.

“I need to know, Sarah, you don’t seem to want to spend any time with me. Do you regret coming out here and marrying me?”


	9. Chapter 9

“Regret? No, I don’t regret marrying you.”

“Then why are you trying to avoid me?”

Sarah wondered if there was a way out, if she could think of something to say, something that wasn’t the plain and simple truth “I can’t… I can’t…” Words failed her; they wouldn’t come to her in time.

“What can’t you do, Sarah?”

She heard his plea and tried not to blurt out what was on her mind, but it was all that was there and she couldn’t stop herself. “I can’t lose you, Steve.”

She had to turn away, try to collect her thoughts, try to figure out how to explain what had just come out of her mouth.

She heard him move closer and closed her eyes.

“Why do you think you’re going to lose me?”

 _Oh, he_ _’s right behind me._ Sarah could feel the heat coming off of him, he was so close.

“You had a fever.”

“It’s not coming back.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because I feel fine.”

“But-”

“Sarah, I feel fine.” He lay his hand on her shoulder to comfort her, to reassure her. “I don’t have any plans to die today.”

That Steve uttered those words surprised Sarah; she knew he’d guessed correctly. Her vision blurred and she felt hot tears streaming down her face. Sarah hobbled outside to get herself under control, away from Steve.

Once he heard her cries subside, he joined her.

“Sarah?”

She turned away. “Please, don’t.”

He wouldn’t let her hide from him. He took the few steps needed to be in front of her. “Don’t what? I don’t understand.”

She tried to explain it away as she continued wiping at her eyes. “So little sleep over the past couple of days, and being worried about you. That’s all that was.” The explanation sounded hollow even to her. She tried averting her eyes, thinking him almost capable of reading her mind. His touch, so gentle on her chin, encouraged her to tilt her face up and look at him. Her embarrassment made her close her eyes, a few remaining tears escaping. He wiped them away.

“You can’t even look at me right now. What’s wrong?”

She didn’t like the words that were about to come out, but if she couldn’t tell her husband she knew she’d never be able to talk to anyone. She needed to face her fears, and while that terrified her, she knew she had to. She opened her eyes and was momentarily at a loss for words, his gaze so intense.

“I can’t lose you.”

“I have no plans to go anywhere.”

“But you got sick.”

She didn’t understand his smile. _How could he smile at being sick_ , she wondered.

Steve took her hands in his and she felt him caressing them. She glanced down and saw his thumbs run back and forth over them. “And I’m all better now, thanks to you.”

Sarah was not to be deterred. “But what happens if you get sick again?”

“I’m sure I will. I’ve been sick before.”

She hated how matter of fact he said that. Was he going to make her say the words? She didn’t know that she could.

“And if you don’t get better the next time?”

“Why wouldn’t I get better? You took care of me this time, you can do it again.”

She started to get angry. She didn’t like that he had all the answers. “But, if your fever hadn’t broke-”

“But it did. You made sure of that. So what’s wrong?”

“I can’t lose you.”

“Why not?”

She didn’t want to give voice to her fear, afraid that once she did, it would take over. “Because… because you’re my husband.” His eyes wouldn’t leave hers, making her feel he was looking for more. Was she going to have to spell it out for him? “What would our family do without you? What would I do without you?”

He turned and walked away, mumbling “It must be true.” He was running his hand through his hair.

She knew he was cross with her, yet again, but she couldn’t understand why. All she was saying was that she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him. Why would that cause him to be cross?

He turned at the end of the porch and came back, still mumbling. She heard him, though. “You said…”

“What did I say?” She was surprised when he didn’t answer, when he turned away and didn’t speak. He must not have heard her. She spoke up again, louder this time. “What is it, Steve? What did I say?”

He hemmed and hawed and did what he could to avoid her gaze, but she needed to know; she needed to understand. “Steve, please talk to me. We agreed last night, or I guess it was this morning, that we’d talk today.”

That got his attention. He turned and she was rooted to that spot, fixed by his gaze. “You’ve been avoiding my questions and now you want to talk?”

He wasn’t wrong, and she hated to admit it. “Yes, I was avoiding. This isn’t easy stuff to talk about, but I did talk. It seems to me that you’re the one now avoiding the conversation. If we’re ever going to really get along I think we need to try.”

“Can we go back inside and sit down? I think it would be best-”

“Are you getting ill?” With two steps she was able to reach up, laying her hand on his temple. “I don’t feel a fever.” Her hand lingered at his forehead before pulling away.

“I don’t have one. I just think that between your ankle and my recent sickness, we’d be best to head back inside and talk there. Besides, you haven’t eaten and you need to. Agreed?”

“I’m not hungry.” When Sarah saw that he didn’t like that answer, she acquiesced. “Okay, I’ll eat something.”

* * *

Steve fixed the remaining egg for Sarah, ignoring her protestations that she could do it herself. Once she’d had the egg and some bread, they did finally settle.

Steve tried to start.  “So when-”

“What did I say? Why won’t you tell me?”

“You won’t let that one go, will you?”

“No. I don’t know what you think is true, what I ever said to-”

He cut her response short. “I overheard you talking to Mrs. Wilson.”

Sarah’s jaw snapped shut and her head quirked to the side. She was getting ready to ask a question when Steve continued.

“It took you longer than I expected to get ready and I wanted us to get married so we could get on the road and come back here, so I came looking for you, so… I know you only married me to make the best of a bad situation-”

“Why would you think that?”

“It’s what you said.”

Sarah almost gave Steve a tongue lashing for having spoken such utter nonsense. “I never said any such thing.”

“You told her, you had no way home. You’d panicked-”

“I did, sure. To be fair, I did panic, but that was on the ride out here. I mean, of course I panicked.”

“’Of course’ you panicked?”

Sarah almost laughed, but thought better of it. Maybe it hadn’t occurred to him… “Didn’t you wonder if we’d be compatible? If we’d get along? If we’d be able to stand the sight of each other, let alone like each other?”

He protested. “You told her I was simple.”

Sarah dismissed his idea, “I have never called you simple.”

“Yes you did. I heard you.”

Everything about that day, save the actual ceremony, was etched into her memory. “I remember that conversation quite well. I never called you simple. I called your letters simple… simple and beautiful, if I’m not mistaken. The life you told me about in those letters, the one you want? It’s the life I want, too.”

“That can’t be.”

“Oh it most certainly is. Why would you doubt me?”

Steve’s response was measured. “You come from a well-connected family.”

“I did, yes.” Sarah sighed, delaying the inevitable a few more moments. She knew it was time. She’d been afraid to tell him, afraid that it would be the thing that would push him to toss her out, but she knew she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. “I have never told you what it was that split me from my family, have I?”

Steve had not been expecting that. “No, as a matter of fact you haven’t, and I’ve wondered.”

Sarah sat back in her chair, fiddling with her skirt, smoothing the fabric and picking at the non-existent lint, trying to figure out how she wanted to start. “You never asked.”

“I was hoping you’d want to tell me, at some point.”

“I think you need to know what I did, so you know what you’re in for with me.”

It was Steve’s turn to sit back, trying to feign a nonchalance he didn’t come close to feeling. He wasn’t nearly as good at it as Sarah, for she saw right through him. “Do I need to be concerned?”

She chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought about his question. “I think it’s best if I leave that up to you to decide.” Sarah looked at Steve for only a few moments before looking away, steeling herself for what his reaction might be. She couldn’t look at him as she tried to figure out where to start her story. She decided to go right for the heart of it. “Daddy tried to marry me off to another well-connected family and I told him I would not, under any circumstances marry-”

Steve leaned forward in his chair, his surprise taking over and cutting her off. “You refused your father?”

Sarah sat a little taller. She knew she needed to tell things plainly, state her side without becoming emotional. She wanted him to hear her. “I refused because I would not marry a brute. Peter was awful and a mean person and more than twice my age and cruel, I mean really cruel. All the women thought he was handsome, but all I could see was the ugly nature of his cruelty. He was just like Daddy, he drank too much and he… yelled at everyone so I said no, and Daddy told me if I didn’t marry Peter I was no longer his daughter, so instead of a life with a cruel man, I left.”

Even though he knew, Steve was still surprised by her admission. “You left your family?”

“I don’t know that Daddy really saw me as family. I think I was more property to him than family. I was only good for forging a connection that would be advantageous for him.” Although she’d had that thought for some time, Sarah had never said those words out loud. While it hurt her deeply to utter them, she also felt somehow free. It was in that freedom that she found the courage to continue.

“He told me I had the night to think about it, to think what my life would be like without everything he’d given me, what it would be like to be cast out from the only home I’d ever known, to be shunned from polite society and not know the company of my friends.” She paused, thinking back to that night and the look of anger and hatred in her father’s eyes.

Steve’s inquiry broke though her memories. “Were you afraid?”

“I had been defiant: I dared to tell Daddy no, so I was more afraid of him than anything else. If I’d stayed, I don’t know what would have happened to me. I would have been forced to marry that awful Peter Fair, of that I am sure. I can’t even imagine what my life would have been like.”

“You just left? Your father didn’t try to stop you?”

“Even when Daddy was lecturing me about what an awful daughter I was and how I needed to do right by him, and telling me I had no choice in the matter, and that I would no longer be a member of polite society, and he kept using that, thinking that would somehow make me want to fall in line with his wishes, but it had no effect on me. I knew, with every fiber of my being I knew that I had to leave. I knew what my answer had to be.” Her memory of that night took over and she started biting at her nails, feeling the same trepidation she had that night, before she realized what she was doing and stopped that long forgotten habit. “I don’t know what it was, but something made me hold back from telling him right then and there. Oh, I wanted to. I wanted to say it right to his face, everything I was thinking, but then I remembered how he was so I held my tongue. He left the house, I don’t know where he went that night, but I’m sure he thought I’d never actually disobey him. I enlisted my maid’s help, and we packed up as much as we could, and I left. I only took what I felt was mine, certainly no one else was going to wear my dresses, I didn’t have any sisters, thank goodness, but I took nothing else. I didn’t want him to have any more reason to come after me, thinking I was stealing from him might have done that.”

She recalled that frantic night and the hurried packing of her trunks, and sending John calling on her friend Betty, who sent someone to help her move her things. Sarah hadn’t wanted anyone in the house to help her for fear that they’d fall victim to her father.

Once again, Steve’s question broke through her memories. “If your mother were alive, do you think he would have done all that, try to force you to marry someone you didn’t want?”

“I’m positive; see, Daddy was not kind to Mother. She was the one who bore most of what he dished out.” A startling thought occurred to her. “Maybe that’s why she died so young. She protected us as much as she could, but when she was gone, he went after my eldest brother, and boy, did Thomas ever fall in line. Oh, and he changed, so drastically. He went from the sweetest boy who only had kind words for everyone to a shorter version of my father. I don’t know if he had really been like Daddy all along, or if he was just protecting himself; I hope it was the latter. To his credit, he knew I was leaving and he didn’t try to stop me.”

“Where did you go? How did you get there?”

“My maid, Mary.”

“Mary… what, she helped you?”

“Mary was too kind and her family took me in. She did not go back to the employ of Daddy after that night and I wrote her a glorious recommendation, which she would have deserved even if she hadn’t helped me. Her family gave me shelter and a place to sleep.” Recalling the morning of her first day of freedom with a smile, she had to tell Steve. “When I awoke the next morning, they tried to wait on me like I was still the lady of the house. It was a routine I’d known for most of my life, either from watching Mother or being the beneficiary myself, so I fell into it easily until I realized I was now penniless. I couldn’t let them wait on me any longer. It was difficult to get them to concede, but I was able to since I couldn’t pay my own way. Mary’s mother, Mrs. Dunlap, instructed me in ways no one ever had before. Cooking and cleaning, so I helped her out and she was pleased with my progress, with how quickly I learned things. I learned how to sew from her, too.”

Sarah watched as Steve stood and picked something off the bed and brought it over to where they were sitting. When he sat, he held held the fabric out to her and she took it, a smile coming to her face when she realized what he’d handed to her: the long clothes.

“I didn’t know you were making those until I saw them this morning.”

“I’m not fast; you’ve seen how long it takes me to finish one of your shirts, even though you are a big man. I am getting better, and faster, too. I thought I should start now, otherwise, our children would have nothing to wear and that would not be appropriate.”

When she glanced at him, Sarah almost remarked on how kind his eyes were. She wasn’t sure if he’d take that as a compliment so she decided to keep that to herself, but she told him in another way.

“Steve, you are not like Daddy, not at all. I know there have been times you have been cross with me and you haven’t uttered an unkind word, and I thank you for that.”

“I’ve never been cross with you.”

“Sure you have. Like when I was upset with you about what you’d done to my cellar. You didn’t like that I was upset with you.”

“I wasn’t cross with you.”

“Yes you were.”

“No. I was upset with myself because I’d messed everything up and then you wouldn’t let me make it right.”

“But you… you do this thing whenever you’re upset with me, you did it then. Goodness, you did it just a little while ago.”

“What do I do?”

“You run your hand through your hair, and you turn away from me.”

“I turn away from you… well, sure, I do that, but not because I’m upset with you.”

“Well then why?”

“I’m frustrated. Sarah, you act more like my maid than my wife. You cook and you clean, and you take care of everything here, better than I ever could, and you take care of me, but you never looked at me like a wife looks at her husband.”

“How is a wife supposed to look at her husband?”

“Like she’s in love with him.”

“In love?”

“Do you think you might ever love me?”

“You asked that question the night you got home from Jimmy’s.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“I have, but I don’t think you’re going to like my answer.” Sarah felt like she’d turned off the light inside of Steve. His face fell and his shoulders slumped and he got up and walked out to the front porch, Sarah close on his heels.

“Steve, I don’t know what love is or what it feels like. I don’t know how a woman is supposed to look at her husband. I don’t think I’ve ever seen what love looks like.”

“Oh.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”

“So you’re never going to love me?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean?”

“I don’t know what love is, so… I don’t… I don’t… know… if-”

“You don’t know if you’ll ever love me.”

“Look, I know you’re upset, but you have to let me finish. I keep fumbling for the words and I can’t find the right ones.” Sarah knew she was trying his patience, but she had to try. She had to get it right. “Mother never talked about her love for Daddy, and I’m sure that Daddy never did love Mother.” There was more Sarah wanted to say and she almost didn’t. It was the pain she saw around his eyes that convinced her she needed to tell him. “Steve? I am fond of you.”

“So you don’t love me?”

“I don’t know how to answer that, Steve. I don’t know what that is.”

“What do you know?”

“What I know is that the happiest part of my day is when you come home after you’ve been gone all day. Even though you are quiet and so moody, I like having you around.”

“I’m not moody.”

Sarah couldn’t help her laugh. “You can have the biggest smile on your face and then for no reason that I can figure, suddenly, in it’s place, there’s a scowl.”

“I don’t think I do that. When was the last time I did that?”

“The last time? The last time… oh, I know, when that pig got out and ate all my squash and I was yelling at him and I couldn’t move him, couldn’t get him back into the barn for the life of me, and I fell and got all dirty. I couldn’t help but laugh, ‘cause you were laughing, and when I asked you to help, all the laughter left. You were so serious.”

“I remember that day. You were funny, you kept pushing at that pig and he kept bumping you, like he was pushing right back and he pushed you down. You were such a sight. And you did, you asked for my help, and that’s what did it.”

“Me asking you for help was what made you stop laughing?”

“Yes.”

“Why would that change your mood?”

“You called me Mr. Rogers.”

“Of course I called you Mr. Rog- wait, that’s what did that?”

“Every time you have ever called me that, I know you don’t see me as your husband.”

“Oh, Steve, I absolutely see you as my husband. You are my husband. Is that really all it was?”

“There was more.”

“I did more? What else did I do?”

“We’d talk about things, like the upcoming winter, and my helping out Jimmy, and about all that you’d done every day, and you always referred to everything as mine, you always said _your_ place, and _your_ food, and _your_ animals. You don’t see this place as ours.”

“Because it is yours. You’re the one who’s done everything. You built this place with your bare hands-”

“I built it for you.”

“For me?” Sarah took a step back, thinking about what Steve had just said. It didn’t make sense to her. “This couldn’t have been for me, you’ve been building this place for longer than you’ve known me.”

Steve reached out, taking one of her hands in his. “I built it for my wife, and you weren’t even here half a day and you were making this place yours.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” Having misunderstood him, she tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“I wanted you to do that.”

“No, you were cross with me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“You had so much to say before we got married and then starting with the wedding you were so quiet and almost the entire ride out here you didn’t say a word.” Sarah took a deep breath, trying to quell the panic that was rising up with her memories from that day so fresh in her mind. “I thought you were upset that you’d married me.”

“That was right after I heard what you said, or what I thought you said.”

“And you still went through with the wedding?”

“I asked, and you said yes. I couldn’t have turned around and refused.”

“So you… even after overhearing that conversation, or what you thought you heard, you still married me? You have to be the most honorable man I’ve ever met.” At the beginning of their conversation she knew she’d gotten things so messed up, but she hadn’t realized how wrong she’d been about him until that moment. “That’s what got you so quiet?” Her entire world changed with his single head nod. “I thought you were going to kick me out.”

“I would never do something like that!”

She’d never thought her father would throw her out. Could she really believe Steve? “You really wouldn’t?”

“No! Who would do something like- Oh! Oh Sarah, no, I would never do that. I would never be like your father, you have to believe me.”

She wanted to, oh how she wanted to. “Or like Mr. Jackson?”

“Who’s Mr. Jackson?”

“Mrs. Jackson was one of Mother’s friends, and well, her husband kicked her out. Mother and Daddy fought something fierce over her. He forbade Mother from having anything to do with her.”

“What did she do?”

“She obeyed him, of course. Better that than incur his wrath.”

“Not your mother, I mean Mrs. Jackson: what did she do?”

“I didn’t know, at the time. It wasn’t until Betty, her daughter, got married that I started to understand. Her father told her she couldn’t be like her mother if she wanted to remain a respectable woman… that she needed to… fulfill her…” Sarah couldn’t help but whisper the last part. “Wifely duties.”

“He kicked her out because she wouldn’t…?”

“That’s what Betty said he said, and… well, I… I haven’t- I mean we… haven’t-”

“Sarah, no. I could never do that to you.”

Sarah was heartbroken. All her hopes went up into the air and dissipated on the late-summer breeze with that one statement. “So then you don’t see me as your wife, and all this talk about family, you don’t want a family with me?”

Steve realized what she thought he had meant and immediately tried to correct it. “No! That’s not what I meant. I- I would never throw you out for…” Steve got fidgety and tongue-tied, trying to figure out how to say what he needed to say. “Refusing or for, um…”

She laid her hand on his arm, wanting to calm him. “You wouldn’t?”

“No. I very much want a family with you.”

Sarah surprised both of them when she burst into tears.

Steve panicked.

“What!? What did I do? What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face, and held her hand out at arm’s length, as if to ward him off, as she stumbled past him to the other end of the porch. Steve followed, afraid she’d fall and hurt herself.

Sarah buried her head in her hands, desperate to stop the sobs coming from her.

It didn’t take long before she got herself under control. “I’m so sorry about that, Steve.”

“What did I do?”

“A burden has been lifted from my shoulders. You’d grown quieter and quieter since our wedding day and I thought for sure you were regretting marrying me, that you knew you could do better than me.”

“That’s not possible.”

“What’s not?”

“There is no better than you, Sarah. I don’t deserve you. I don’t know why you said yes to me.”

“Yes, to marrying you? That’s easy.  You offered me the life I wanted, one that I could see for myself. Sure, I panicked a little on the ride out, but I clung to the words in your beautiful letters. They gave me hope, hope that you would provide the life I wanted and that I would be happy with you, and I am.”

“You want to be here?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Maybe, one day, you might love me?”

“Maybe… maybe you can help me with that? I don’t know what love looks like. Maybe you can point it out to me when you see it.”

“Point it out? Next time I see it, I’ll do just that.”

Both amazed that they had come to an understanding, it grew quiet.

Steve turned and walked the three steps down to the ground, taking a few steps before turning back to her. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

“Since you have assured me you aren’t going to get sick again, at least, not right now, I think the fresh air will do you some good.”

Steve held his hand out to Sarah.

“Will you please join me?”

She smiled as she approached him, gingerly taking the stairs and putting her hand in his. “I’d love to.”

Once on the path that would take them along the lake, he offered his arm to her. Initially she wouldn’t take it, insisting she could walk on her own.

“I’ve leaned on you these past days, Sarah, it’s time for you to start leaning on me.”

Sarah was pretty sure there was more to what he said than she understood so she slipped her hand around his arm. He slowed his gait down to match hers, and then slowed it even more to compensate for her injury. They walked in companionable silence until he put his other hand on top of hers and they came to a stop.

“I have a question for you, Sarah.”

“Yes, Steve?”

“Could we, I mean it’s okay if it’s no, but maybe you’d let me?”

“Let you what, Steve?

“May I kiss you?”

“You, you want to kiss me?”

“Only if it’s okay with you.”

“Oh, um, I’ve never-”

“If you’re not ready, or if you don’t want-”

“But I do want to.” Sarah’s sudden confession made her duck her head. “I’ve just never kissed anyone before.”

“A girl as pretty as you? How is that possible?”

“Daddy never let me be alone with a boy, so I never had the chance.” She ducked her head and mumbled.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“I said I never had the chance.”

“I heard that part. I didn’t hear what you said after that.”

She peered up at him through her lashes. “I said I don’t know how. I’m not going to be any good at it.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that.”

In the days and weeks that would follow, Sarah would marvel at how time both seemed to speed up and slow down. She’d be able to remember absolutely everything about the kiss: how much pressure there was, how soft his lips were, how, beneath her hand, the one that found its way to his broad chest, how warm Steve was.

She’d find herself staring off into the distance, recalling how he’d cupped her chin and tilted her head back and how she’d felt his thumb caressing her cheek; how, when his lips met hers, she felt both completely grounded, both feet, finally, firmly on the ground beneath her, and also as if she were made of the lightest clouds that were floating on the breeze above their heads. Sarah knew she was home. Sarah knew she was right were she was supposed to be.

“Sarah, you… that was perfect.”

“It was?” She couldn’t help but beam at him, albeit briefly. His intense gaze put lightning in her stomach, the little hairs on the back of her neck standing on end just like they would back at Daddy’s house right before a horrible storm would erupt. She turned to continue the walk, but Steve didn’t follow.

“You know how you told me that I should point it out, the next time I saw love?”

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to see it.”

“Right now?”

“Maybe… you can see it on my face?”

“But that… you mean, you mean you’re-”

“Yes. I’m in love with you, Sarah.”

There was something… different about the way he was looking at her… and she recalled when Mr. Wilson looked at Mrs. Wilson when they were at the courthouse and getting ready to accompany them as they went before the Justice of the Peace. Those two had shared a moment and it was as if they were in a world unto themselves, and that was the look she saw on Steve’s face.

“Oh.”

“Sarah?”

“Yes?”

His hand was back on her face, tilting her up to him with his other encircling her waist pulling her close. This time, when Steve kissed her, Sarah felt light-headed, her heart speeding up and stealing all the air from her lungs as she grabbed hold of his shirt front, sure she was going to faint and fall. This time the kiss lasted longer and she heard grumbling, guttural sounds coming from Steve that stirred something deep within, and she surprised herself with her soft, high-pitched answer that she didn’t know she had in her. This time, when he pulled away she chased him a little, wanting the kiss to continue before pulling back herself, her eyes slow to open as she quietly gasped for air.

“I think we’re going to be just fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of now, Steve and Sarah's story is at an end. As I wrote this, more of their life together came to me, but I have other things that I need to take care of for the moment. I will be returning to them at some point (31-Jul-17).

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting/Downloading:  
> Please do not repost or make these works available for downloading on any other site.


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